Memories of Christmas
by Chibi Chibi Sami
Summary: Post WWIII AU   They were the pride of their countries; the young, elite team known as The Nations during World War III- until they were captured. Years later, they're all still friends and reunite every Christmas to celebrate their lives.
1. Chapter 1

They were the pride of their countries; the young, elite team known as The Nations during World War III- until they were captured. Years later, they're all still friends and reunite every Christmas to celebrate their lives, despite their disabilities…

A future!Post-WWIII!AU story

* * *

"Listen? Do you hear the bells?"

"Sorry, dear, I still do not."

"Well… that is a shame…"

A young couple made their way down a snow covered street in New York City, the wind wiping about them and people bustling all around. Everyone was trying to get their last minute shopping done before Christmas Eve in two days- most seemed to be succeeding but there were the few that looked like they might kill someone for the prized gift they could not find.

The woman snuggled close to the man, curling into his warmth, despite the fact that she was not all that cold. Covered in a thick white coat with a fur lined hood, she looked just snug, light brown hair escaping the cap as she smiled ahead, taking in her surroundings. But the man was quite the opposite- he held the woman close, as if he might lose her in the crowd. He, too, had on a thick coat, but his was dark and more professional looking, especially as he glared, eyes downcast, in front of them. Their views on the holiday seemed to be on different spectrums.

Neither of them saw, though, as a middle aged man pushed into the woman, dropping his things in the process. "Hey!" He yelled at her, "why don't you watch where'yer going!"

"Oh, I am sorry," the woman apologized, her voice thick with a foreign accent, "with all the noise, I did not hear you. Truly, I apologize."

The man huffed as he bent down, gathering his things up into his arms. "Well then why dontcha use your eyes, you stupid bitch!"

"Excuse me," the man who was with the woman spoke up, getting the other's attention, "I would respect it if you did not speak to my wife in such a manner." He told him, his accent- different from her's- making itself known, as well.

Tugging on her husbands sleeve, the woman shook her head, "no, Roderich, it is my fault for not hearing him. Sir, I am quite sorry." She said, holding her hand out for him to take.

When he looked up at her, his eyes went wide, seeing that she was not looking directly at him. The man looked up at her husband, Roderich, who shook his head silently, confirming his suspicions. "Ah- ah, it's fine." The man said as he took her hand, "it was my fault, sorry for yelling at you like I did."

The woman smiled once more, helping the man up. "It is no problem. Please, have a merry Christmas." She told him as she shook his hand, placing her other on top, still not looking at him.

"Y- you as well." He stuttered back. Then he turned and began away, disappearing into the Christmas crowds.

Roderich sighed as he once again took a hold of his wife, leading her away. "You are much to kind, Elizaveta." He told her, lightly kissing her cheek.

Elizaveta just continued to smile, pressing into her husband's arm and side as she had before, "it is the season to be so, Szerelem- you should consider this." She said as she jokingly nudged his side, then shivered. "How much longer until we reach Alfred's?" she then asked, "it is not as cold as it is at home, yet it is still chilly."

"Only a few more blocks," he responded, "I told you we could have taken a cab from the hotel."

The woman giggled. "Yes, but then we would not have been able to experience what we just did," she told Roderich, "I believe we may have put him more into the giving spirit- or at least made him think before he judges others, again."

Once more, Roderich sighed. "You are mad, woman." He told Elizaveta, "but ich Liebe dich."

"Szeretlek as well."

* * *

"Roderich! Elizaveta! You made it! Welcome!" A young blonde man called as he heard the door open, wind wailing as Roderich struggled to get it shut. He waved at them from the next room and hauled himself from the loveseat he had been sitting in and into a close by wheelchair. Adjusting his legs in the chair, he wheeled over to them quickly, stopping just in front of the couple.

With her usual smile, Elizaveta turned to where she heard the man's voice come from. "Alfred! It is good to hear your voice once more!" She laughed as she tugged her hood down, freeing the rest of her wavy brown hair and allowing her husband to completely remove her coat, "how have you been?"

Alfred took her free hand and squeezed it tightly, greeting her gently, "oh, same as always," the man laughed with her, "it's not easy being the hero around here, you know!" As soon as Alfred released her hand Elizaveta reached out, lightly brushing her finger tips over his face, shutting her eyes.

"Well, you sure do feel the same," she told him, readjusting the glasses she had knocked askew from his nose, then withdrawing her hand, "how is Arthur?"

Shrugging, he replied, "same old grouch as he's always been," he joked, sticking his tongue out (and making a sound of disgust for Elizaveta's sake) like a child. "Hey, Artie!" Alfred yelled up the stairs, turning his wheelchair a bit to do so, "Elizaveta and Roderich are here, so get your ass down here!" He looked back around to the married couple, "sorry, he's probably setting Antonio and Romano up in their room- they only just got here, too. Ah, speaking of which, how've you been, Roderich? I asked your wife but completely ignored you."

Roderich gave a little, false half smile, "Alright. I've been working with the current president of my country over the issues with the Program. So far it is running smoothly."

The blonde nodded, understanding what he meant. The Program he referred to was something all of them had once been a part of- the one thing that brought them all together.

"Why must you be so bloody loud, Alfred?" An annoyed British voice said form the stairs as another blonde man (his hair a bit lighter) made his way down them, "you won't be able to yell like that when Veniciano gets here- you'll give him an attack and Ludwig will ring your neck, ya git." Green eyes then shifted to Elizaveta and Roderich, the sight of them banishing the stern frown that usually marred his face, turning him into a real gentleman. "Ah, it is wonderful to see the two of you. Roderich, it's good of you to come." He said, reaching out a gloved hand.

"Of course, Arthur- we would not miss it for the world." The dark haired man nodded once, taking his hand and shaking it firmly.

Arthur then turned to smiling Elizaveta, taking her outstretched hands in his own, "and dear Elizaveta- looking as beautiful as ever. But I'm positive you know this, already." He told her, bringing her hands to his lips and kissing them gently.

"Thank you, Arthur," she responded, taking her hands back and reaching up to feel at his face. When she was done, she leaned in and gave him a friendly little peck on the cheek, making him blush.

Naturally, the wheelchair bound blonde cackled at Arthur's light blush, nudging Elizaveta jokingly. "Hey now, Hungary," he called her by her nickname, "don't you go making my boyfriend go straight on me!" The American laughed whole heartedly.

At his words, Arthur rolled his eyes, "please, come in- make yourselves at home." He told them, leading the two into the overly large living room. "Alfred, why don't you go and make them some drinks to warm them up? Coffee for Roderich and tea for Elizaveta, I assume."

The young woman nodded, gripping her husband's arm as he led her into the living room, "yes, as always. You know us much too well, Arthur."

"Right! Coffee and tea coming up!" Alfred said, spinning his wheelchair around and practically flying into the other room, headed for the kitchen. "We only have Artie's nasty Earl Grey and Breakfast Tea- hope you don't mind, Elizaveta!"

"No, that is quite fine. Thank you, America."

"Come, dear, you can sit down, now." Roderich said softly, helping to guide his wife onto the love seat Alfred had been sitting on earlier, right next to a roaring fire in an ornate fireplace. He then looked up at Arthur, who had sat down in a single and picked up a teacup from a little table next to the chair "who else has arrived so far? Besides Antonio and Romano?"

Arthur sighed as he set down the teacup, which Roderich assumed had been either cold or empty. "Ah, Kiku and Heracles have been here since Thursday and Gilbert and- ah, what's his name? Alfred's brother- got here yesterday, with Vash and Lilli getting here last night. This morning Toris and Feliks showed up- Feliks all bundled in a red and white fur dress- and only a little while after them Yao and Im Young Soo made it. And, of course, Antonio and Romano arrived only about an hour ago. Romano's brother, Veniciano, should be here by tomorrow morning with Ludwig and that frog, Francis, should show his face sometime before Christmas Eve." The small man rolled his eyes, frowning deeply at the thought of the Frenchmen, who he next to despised.

Even Elizaveta could sense his disdain. "Perhaps you should be a little kinder toward Francis, Arthur," she suggested, "it is hard for him this time of year- all of us here with our loved ones and he having to remember that his has passed." The young woman said softly, squeezing her husband's hand. She couldn't imagine how it would feel if she lost Roderich- especially in the way that Francis had lost the woman that he had loved so deeply.

But Arthur just scoffed. "There's no point in even attempting- all he does when he gets here is swallow down all of my fine wine and try to seduce anyone willing to listen. Or he'll disappear for hours and return with a giggling, drunken young lady hanging on him and giving the rest of us odd looks. Well, isn't Francis bloody lucky for not recieving any physical damage. Let me tell the two of you, if he does it again this year I'll damage him myself. Make him look like all the rest of us."

"Coffee and icky tea is served!" Alfred called as he wheeled himself back into the living room, a silver tray balanced carefully on his lap, his boisterous voice slicing through the tense atmosphere Arthur had created. "Don't worry, Artie, I brought some for you, too." He told his partner, rolling over to him and handing him a cup from the tray.

At that, the green eyed man rose, taking the tray from Alfred's lap. "Thank you, love. Here, I'll take this for you." He told him, walking over to Roderich and Elizaveta, handing the man his coffee and helping the woman to grip her tea cup. "If you don't mind, I think I shall go and check up on everyone else. Roderich, Elizaveta," he said, nodding to each in turn, "please come and find me later and I shall show you to your room." Arthur then walked to Alfred and bent down to him, kissing him quickly on the mouth before heading out of the room and back up the stairs.

Once he was gone, Alfred 'humph'-ed and crossed his arms. "What crawled up his pant leg and bit him in the ass?" He grumbled, taking a big gulp of his own coffee. Elizaveta sighed and Roderich looked away, rubbing calming circles on the back of his wife's hand with his thumb. But almost as soon as it came, the awkwardness was gone as Alfred picked up with speaking once again- about how cold it was, about the recent Presidential election, about anything that came to his mind, which was usual for the barely-legal man.

It was going to be a long Holiday season with everyone together, as always.

* * *

Woah! Info!

As mentioned before, this takes place after World War III, which I'm placing about 20-40 years from now. The whole thing is about a group of 20-somethings whom were all a part of a super-elite military team known as The Nations, sent from all of the countries making up the Allied Forces of the war, all specializing in different things.

They were captured by the "bad guys" and tortured, all becoming disabled in one way or another. At the time, it may be hard to figure out what each disabilty is (though two should be obvious). Cookies to anyone who can figure out all three. w

Well, thank you very much for reading. It would be very kind of you to review if you enjoyed it.

~Chibi Chibi Sami

Oh!  
Ich Liebe Dich- I love you (German. My Austria/Hungary doujinshi taught me that XD)  
Szeretlek- I love you (Hungarian. Yeah, I had to google that one)  
Szerelem- Love (Hungarian)


	2. Chapter 2

Woah man, woah- 2 chapters in one day? Crazy, I know.

This one's just a quicky, because I wanted to include this information but not along with the main story line.

Enjoy~

* * *

A quiet knock announced the new morning, rousing Elizaveta from her sleep nearly immediately, her ears being much more sensitive than her husband's. "Elizaveta? Roderich?" A soft female voice called through the door, sounding much younger than Elizaveta's, yet having nearly the same accent as Roderich. "Arthur wanted me to let you know that breakfast will be starting soon. He said he just wanted to prepare you for the fighting that is bound to happen."

With a gasp, the older woman nearly flew out of the bed she was sharing with her husband, tripping and feeling around for the door. The sound of her struggles awoke Roderich in an instant, "Elizaveta! What's wrong?" He asked, worried, reaching over to retrieve his glasses. The man pulled them on, clearing his vision to see his wife, clad only in her little nightgown, searching for the door in what seemed to him to be a panic. "What's going on?" Roderich asked again as he jumped out of the bed, rushing to her.

The man narrowly missed a door to the face.

"Lilli!" Elizaveta cried out, reaching for the tiny blonde girl who stood in their doorway, "it has been much too long!" Once her hands found her she hugged her tightly, gathering her up into her arms. "How have you been, Kicsi?"

For a moment, Lilli did not respond, just hugging Elizaveta back. Then Roderich spoke up from behind the girls, trying to regain his composure after what he had just gone through. "Liebe, she cannot read your lips if she cannot see them." He reminded his wife, adjusting his glasses.

Elizaveta blinked sightless eyes, responding to her husband's words with "ah, of course. I nearly forgot…" She then pulled away from Lilli, who smiled up at her. Slowly and punctuating every word, Elizaveta repeated, "it has been much too long. How have you been, Lilli?"

Reading the words her lips formed, Lilli giggled softly, "it's only been a few months, Elizaveta," she responded to the questions posed, silent to her, "but I have been fine, thank you. Actually, Vash and I have an announcement to make later on, when everyone arrives."

"Really?" Elizaveta inquired curiously, a smirk playing at her lips, "and what might this be about?"

Again, Lilli giggled, "that is a secret, of course." She smiled, despite the fact that the other could not see her, and then turned to Roderich. "And you, Roderich? How have you and Elizaveta been doing?"

To her, Roderich gave one of his rare, real smiles. Lilli had grown up just down the street from him and, when they were children, they sometimes played together. That was, until Lilli's parents moved her to a new country and out of the neighborhood. Roderich had been shocked to find that she had been entered into The Program, as well, seeing her for the first time since she had moved away. By that time, she had become very close to Vash Zwingli- another young man whom had entered The Program, taking her in as an almost little sister. "We have been fine, thank you, Lilli. I am sure Arthur has told you everything else."

"Oh, Arthur! Mein Gott, I nearly forgot about him!" The girl gasped, covering her mouth in remembrance, "I must alert Toris and Feliks that breakfast will be starting soon. I shall see you both there?" The pair nodded, making Lilli smile. "Then I shall meet you downstairs soon!" She said, then bowed quickly before dashing off to the next room.

Elizaveta straightened up and moved back into the room, Roderich shutting the bedroom door behind her. Again, she reached out, but this time for her husband, letting him take her in his arms and holding her tightly. " 'Morning." The young woman mumbled into the man's chest, giving him a proper morning greeting as she curled into his warmth with a shiver.

"Good morning," Husband replied to wife, hugging her close. "I can tell we got off to an exciting start, already." Roderich murmured into Elizaveta's hair, kissing the top of her head. "Cold?" He asked, rubbing her arms as she shivered.

Sighing and stepping back, Elizaveta nodded, flopping back onto the bed behind her. "I am used to having a fireplace in our room, not just false heat from a vent." She groaned, grabbing the sheets and curling them up around herself, making a thick cocoon, with just her head and toes sticking out. The sight made Roderich smile and wish that she could see herself- or simply see him smile.

Then she gave a long yawn, closing her eyes. "You didn't get much sleep last night, did you?" The dark haired man asked as he joined her on the bed, recalling how she tossed and turned nearly the entire length of the night. When Elizaveta shook her head, Roderich sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why not?"

"There are- too many noises in New York." She told him, rolling over to face where she had felt him sit down

She told him, rolling over to face where she had felt him sit down, "I like our home better."

Of course there were too many noises in New York- it is the City that Never Sleeps. Roderich and Elizaveta lived the Alps, far away from any huge cities, in a tiny little village, their house being the largest for over a hundred miles. It was peaceful, tranquil, and perfect for both of them. Sure, before she had lost her sight, Elizaveta would have loved to live in a big city like New York or London or Paris; experienced the pulse and practical heart beat of the places. But after the War, after her sight was guaranteed to never return to her, she welcomed the peace of the far away village. It was a place where her heightened senses- like her ears- would not be bombarded by unwanted sounds and smells and touches. Roderich had simply always preferred the beauty and nature of the village, a perfect place for him to live happily with his love and play his piano or violin until his final days.

"It's only two weeks," Roderich said, trying to soothe her as he ran his fingers through her hair. "If you want we can go and buy one of those noise-makers Americans are so fond of. That may help, would it not?"

"It may," she agreed, pressing into his hand as it trailed to her cheek, caressing gently, "perhaps we should purchase one…"

Poor Roderich couldn't help but wince at the thought, hating spending money on useless things.

* * *

See? Short, I promised.  
And now we have little Liechtenstein! How in the world was she recruited along with the rest of them?

So, just to clear everything up so far-

Elizaveta (Hungary)- Blind  
Roderich (Austria)- Unknown  
Alfred (America)- Crippled, wheelchair bound  
Arthur (England)- Hands and arms burned horrifically up to his shoulders  
Lilli (Liechtenstein)- Deaf

Kicsi- Little One (Hungarian)  
Mein Gott- My God (German)

Thank you for reading!

~Chibi Chibi Sami


	3. Chapter 3

Hot damn, I'm on a roll, hu?  
Here's chapter 3 for you! Look, more characters! We'll have almost all of them by the end of this one!

Enjoy~

* * *

Downstairs, things were not so calm. "I don't want any of your shit food, Arthur!" Alfred yelled at the man next to him, trying to pull his arm down, "and I doubt any of our guests do, either!"

"My food is _not_ shit!" Arthur snapped back, swatting away the hand of his partner, "you're just a bloody American with no sense of taste for anything but hamburgers!" He pushed Alfred's wheelchair back away from him.

In the Dining Room sat just about everyone else- four in total- listening to Arthur and Alfred argue viciously in the kitchen. They spoke quietly to one another, only getting louder every now and then when one- the smallest of them all, a man with dark black hair in almost a bowl cut- would cough loudly and violently, prompting the one that said next to him to pat his back comfortingly. Once he calmed some, the man with light brown hair would hand him a glass of water, helping him to drink some of it as he gasped for air. "Better now?" The brunette asked softly and slowly, setting the glass down.

The other nodded, clutching at his chest as he took deep breaths. "Yes. Arigato, Heracles."

Suddenly, the kitchen door burst open with a, "yo, mi amigos!" The very Spanish voice called, shutting the door on a very dejected looking Arthur behind him. "I will be…" he paused, all expression leaving his previously excited face. The man turned dark green eyes back on the kitchen door, opening it again, "oi, Romano! What am I doing, again?"

An angry grumble came from the other side and out came a young man with reddish-brown hair and one unruly curl sticking up out of it. "You're making breakfast, you jackass." He told him, slamming the door behind him as he walked into the Dining Room.

The so-called "jackass" grinned, patting the angry Italian on the head, "oh, that's right! Gracias, Romano, Mi Tomate~" he cooed, severely irking the smaller as he turned to the rest of the group. "You all want some Churros?" He asked.

"That's not a breakfast food, you tomato-brained bastardo!" Romano snapped, smacking the Spaniard's hand away, "you have to make breakfast!"

"Yo, what the Hell's with all the noise? The awesome me needs some sleep!" Yet another voice joined the cacophony, its owner appearing just seconds after. A white haired man with a red eye made his way into the room, "we could hear your stupid screaming from all the way upstairs! Verbiente Gott you wake Princess Feliks and bring his annoying wrath upon us!"

Another from the table- this one with his hair pulled into a long ponytail- turned to the newly arrived man. "We?" He asked, "what do you mean we-aru?"

At his words, the red-eyed man blinked and looked around, searching for something no one else could see. "Mattie! If you don't come in no one's ever going to remember you!" He barked, reaching back and pulling something from behind the door frame. Into the room stepped another blonde, greatly resembling Alfred, clutching a plush Polar Bear to his chest. "And why didn't you leave that thing in the room?"

Matthew gave him a look, letting him know that he knew good and well that the "tough guy" currently had a little yellow bird plushie in his jacket pocket. The blonde then shrugged, nodding toward the kitchen door, making the white haired man have to think. After only a few seconds, though, he got it and nodded, giving him a big thumbs up. "Yeah, great idea Matt!" He exclaimed, the began pulling the blonde toward the kitchen.

"Ah, Gilbert!" Pause. "…what's going on?" The Spanish man inquired as the white haired man and blonde pushed past him.

Gilbert didn't bother stopping as he answered, "making breakfast, Antonio. Canada here's going to make pancakes."

Again, a grin spread across his face. "Bueno! Can you make churros, then? I don't think I ate breakfast this morning…"

Stopping and opening his mouth, Gilbert went to explain that it was breakfast but Romano caught his eye and shook his head from behind Antonio. So he shut his mouth and allowed the Spaniard to continue on babbling to the Italian for a moment more. The he suddenly went silent again and it started all over, beginning with asking Romano what was going on.

In the kitchen Arthur sat firmly on Alfred's lap in his wheelchair, the larger man's arms wrapped around his waist. Arthur was moping. Gilbert made a sound of disgust, announcing their entrance, making the thick-browed man jump. "You two are sickening," the one eyed man told them, "when's mein bruder getting here?"

"Sometime this afternoon," Arthur told him, pushing out of Alfred's arms, making him whine.

But his attention was drawn away by the sight of Matthew. "Hey! 'Morning bro!" Alfred called to his twin brother, "wassup? Sleep well?"

Matthew nodded, giving him a kind smile, fingers curling around the bear. It still felt odd to have someone calling him brother- especially when the man was his own, actual _twin_ brother. Both Alfred and Matthew had been raised in adopted homes after their parents had died when the two of them were babies, leaving them with no memories of their parents or eachother. The two boys grew up thinking- _knowing_- that they were only children. It wasn't until the two of them were recruited for The Program that they were informed that they were brothers were they aware of that either one of them existed. "So you're still not gonna talk to me, hmmm? Your own brother!" He exclaimed with mock sadness, pressing his face into the crook of his elbow.

Gilbert grunted, once again turning attention to himself. "Maybe you should be a little nicer to your bruder- he doesn't make fun of your legs." The white haired man grumbled, glaring with his one red eye, "anyway, Matt's going to make pancakes since all Antonio wants is churros. He thinks it's lunch, already…"

* * *

Well, hope you liked it! Now we've got:  
Japan, Greece, China, Korea, Spain, Romano, Prussia, and Canada!

Can you figure out what's wrong with some of them? Not all have been stated, of course, but quite a few have. I just don't like stating it flat out in the story- I really don't believe that they'd make a big deal about what's wrong with eachother right out.

Thank you for all the lovely reviews so far~

~Sami


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry this one took a bit to get up and sorry that it's short. Our Senior Skip Day was yesterday and, since we didn't have school on thursday, we went camping.

Here you go~

* * *

"Good morning~!" A cutsie voice rang through the Dining Room, making everyone stop eating and turn to investigate. A woman with shoulder length blonde hair and all bundled up in a black and white fur coat stood clinging to a brunette man, his own hair about the same length. "Sorry we won't be, like, joining you for breakfast- Tori and I want to, like, get out and go get everyone's Christmas presents before they're all sold out of absolutely everything." She explained, tugging on Toris' arms, "c'mooooonnnn, Tori!"

Toris, the brown haired man, sighed, "Sorry, guys- Feliks insisted." He murmured, making Gilbert laugh.

"Dude, you're so whipped!" The white haired man cackled, "and by a cross dresser, no less!" The only other person joined in his laughter was Alfred.

His words made Feliks pout, pulling the unscarred corner of his lips into a frown. "You're, like, so mean, Gilbert," the blonde whined, "you're not that totally mean to anyone else!"

Another laugh. "Of course I am! You're just too self absorbed to notice! The awesome-me's mean to everyone except Mattie, here."

Feliks tugged on Toris, again, rubbing the dark scar that ran across his face from his left temple to the right edge of his mandible. "Can we just, like, go now Tori?" We don't need to be in, like, this totally cruel atmosphere. Plus I, like, desperately need to get Elizaveta's present before the store runs out! Ohmigosh, let's gooooo Tori!" He gasped, literally pulling Toris out of the room.

"G'luck, dude!" Alfred called after them, his mouth stuffed with pancakes smothered in maple syrup.

What he did made his partner glare at him, "don't talk with you mouth full." Arthur scolded, practically shoving a napkin into his mouth . The bespectacled man rolled his eyes, swallowing his entire mouthful at once. "By the King, how do you not choke on your fod?"

Alfred gave him a little laugh, "how do you not choke every night?" He winked; nearly making Arthur spit out his tea, his face lighting up like the Christmas decorations that coated Alfred's house.

"I heard that!" Elizaveta announced as Roderich lead her into the room, laughing. "Ah, something smells wonderful- Matthew's pancakes?"

Matt nodded and Gilbert spoke for him, "sure are, chicky!" He told her, giving a little wink. Gilbert knew she wouldn't see it but, after all, he didn't really do it for her- he did it simply to irk her husband.

Which he managed to do successfully, Roderich turning cold violet eyes on the silently cackling man. "Your pancakes are always delicious, Matthew- thank you." What she said made the silent man blush, giving a nod of thanks. "Though I suggest you watch yourself, Gilbert Beilschmidt- I still have that frying pan, you know."

Gilbert winced at the thought. During the war their team had stopped for the night and Elizaveta was helping Veniciano cook dinner. The girl had finally had enough of the handsome red-eyed soldier's come-ons and harassments by that time. When he slinked about her and smacked her on the ass, Elizaveta grabbed the handle of a near by, unused frying pan that Veniciano had set aside. Without any warning to Gilbert she swung around, slamming him hard and square in the face. To this day, he swore he could still feel it burn.

"Alright, Liebe, you can sit." Roderich said to her, scooting her chair in next to Lilli and handing her a fork, guiding her hand to the plate for the first time. He himself then too the final seat between his wife and Matthew, despite hating how close he had to be to the man that was practically his enemy.

For a time, the room fell into near silence, with nothing to be heard but the clink and scrape of silver wear on plates as the group hungrily devoured their breakfast. Their odd little group with all of their odd little niches and habits and looks and issues, all caused by the same things. All brought together by the pain and horror people in the world caused, inflicting the pain on them, eventually. And yet, none of them could complain, anymore, because they were all together.

All celebrating their lives together.

* * *

Cheesy, I know, cheesy ending. I apologize T_T  
The next chapter should be longer and be up sooner, since I have the majority written, already, just not typed up.

Thank you all for your reviews and for reading!

~Sami


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5! This one is longer than four, I promise you that, but only by another 300 words or so.

Quickly, before we start, I must thank three people; Marine is Hope2, ChaoticXXHearts, and Maya-chan2007. The three of you always leave the sweetest reviews and I thank you for that.

Enjoy~

* * *

After breakfast was over Alfred, Gilbert, Vash, and (reluctantly, after much persuasion by his wife) Roderich went to their rooms to get dressed and ready to go out and get a Christmas tree for the house. Meanwhile, Arthur put everyone else to work decorating and preparing the inside of the house (since he and Alfred had done the outside the week before to avoid the snows that were- correctly- predicted to come the following week). Elizaveta and Heracles strung popcorn and berries on the couch for Lilli and Antonio to hang along with the wreaths and other decorations that Kiku and Romano worked on unpacking from big plastic containers. Elizaveta and Antonio kept up the conversation, telling jokes (which Antonio often ended up repeating) and asking how everyone's year had been, since the majority had not seen eachother since their last Christmas celebration. Yao and Im Yong were sent off to get the groceries that Arthur had made a list of- but only after absolutely everyone else had gone over what was written down and added their own preferences. Matthew cleaned the dishes from breakfast and began baking and cooking, so that hot food would be ready when those that were going to get the Christmas tree came back and at the same time Arthur started the fire and attended to the bedrooms and bathrooms.

Just before the group left to retrieve the tree, the front door swung open with an excited "Ciao!" ringing out, catching everyone's attention. "Buon Natale! Merry Christmas!"

"Aha, Veniciano!" Antonio called back, turning on the ladder he was on to wave at the young Italian man. Behind him stood a much larger, much tougher looking blonde, piercing blue eyes set in a glare, seeming odd compared to the cheer of the other. "Welcome!"

"Ludwig, dude! Perfect timing, we're just about to go and chop down a tree! Like real men!" Alfred yelled as he wheeled into the main room, "are you up for- the challenge?" He inquired, laughing as he flexed his biceps.

With a small smirk, the large blonde nodded. "Ja, I will help as much as I can." Ludwig told him distractedly as he looked around, "where is-"

He was quickly cut off as the one he was looking for enter, "'sup, mein bruder? 'Bout time you got here!" Gilbert told him, giving him a high-five with his left hand. "But time to go, again! Tannenbaum time!" He laughed, grabbing him by the right arm.

"Ah, bruder- I just got here." Ludwig complained gently- he hadn't really been listening when Alfred had asked him. "Veniciano and I wanted to sleep some before we started working on things." He told his older brother, frowning a bit deeper than usual.

But Veniciano laughed and turned to Ludwig and Gilbert. "Veee~ Luddy, you should go help find a Christmas tree! A great big one that we can put a ton of pretty, sparkly decorations on!"

Of course, the German could not argue with his little Italian's wishes- he never could. So he just sighed, let his head fall some, and nodded.

"Sweet! Alright, let's get going before the weather gets too bad and my wheels won't go through the snow!" Alfred yelled as he wheeled to the door, Arthur stopping him before he made it out.

Arthur pulled a cap over his head, leaving one little hair to stick out and up in the front. "Hat. You loose most of your body heat through your head."

Looking up, Alfred gave him an overly mocking grin. "Aw, shucks. Thank you very much, darlin'." The darker blonde told him as he pretended to tip his hat, trying his hardest to imitate a southern gentleman.

The whole made Arthur look away, blushing from a sweet embarrassment, "oh, shut it, you bugger." He mumbled, before leaning down to let Alfred give him a little kiss on the cheek.

"Sickening. You two are sickening." Gilbert informed them- and the rest of the room- as he walked in once more, licking something from the corner of his mouth. The man had disappeared whilst no one was looking- a thing he had always been very good at, even before the War.

Elizaveta clicked her tongue from the couch, smirking. "Don't think I could no hear you and Matthew in the kitchen." She said, shaking her head, "after knowing you and how you act for so long, I feel sorry for the poor man sometimes."

As Elizaveta laughed and Gilbert frowned, Roderich walked over to his wife, touching her shoulder gently, "I'm leaving, Liebe." He informed her softly, whispering in her ear. Her laughter died off as she reached toward his voice, taking his face in her hands.

"Go find me a Christmas tree I can imagine." Elizaveta laughed- not like how she had at Gilbert, though. Her laughter this time was sweet and quiet but not without the smallest hint of sadness, something only Roderich could hear. She then pulled his face to her own, kissing him gently.

While no one was looking, Vash had pulled Lilli off of the stool she was perched on, letting the ribbon she was hanging fall as he lead her to an empty hall. Silently and blushing, the man signed 'I love you' to the woman quickly. Though his skills in Sign Language were less than astounding, Vash didn't even have to think as his hands made out those words neatly and perfectly, knowing them by heart from the many times he had told his fiancée. Little Lilli nearly attacked him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest, cuddling up against him. Without another word or movement, the Swiss man tilted the woman's head up and kissed her lips hurriedly before he began walking away, leaving her saying "I love you, too" back.

"Vash, what the hell, we've got to go! Now's no time for you to be running off!" Alfred yelled just as the afore mentioned man reentered the room, typical frown replacing the little smile he had given Lilli only seconds before. On the couch Elizaveta smiled secretly to herself as she bid those leaving farewell, listening to the loud men push and shove- already beginning to bicker- out the door.

Without saying a word about the knowledge she had acquired, the woman continued stringing the popcorn and berries, listening to Veniciano's excited chatter.

* * *

And End! Hope you enjoyed Chapter 5!

And we finally have Venciano and Ludwig! Now we're only missing one character! :D

Just a warning for the upcoming week- there will probably only be one new chapter, if any at all. Monday I have One Act rehearsal for Thespians (of which I am the lead~) and the rest of the week is show week for the play my highschool is putting on. I will have very little access to technology and will be extremely busy, so don't expect much. Sorry!

I love you all! Now I must eat my salad and continue sewimg my Canada cosplay for my Senior Project!

~Sami


	6. Chapter 6

Oh, well, look at this! A new chapter already? That's two in one day! This surprises even me!

Enjoy~

* * *

_"We're stopping here for the night?" Arthur asked, looking up from the digital map he carried, clutched in his hands. In front of them stretched a huge lake, glittering silver under the light of the full moon. No lights from any towns or villages could be seen, nor were there any listed on the map- not for dozens of miles. It seemed as if they were truly alone, "this is enemy territory."_

_Leading the group, Alfred groaned, spinning around on his right leg to face the older man and his map. "Artie- _everything_ is enemy territory; we've been in it for two weeks!"_

_"Mein Gott, we need the sleep!" Gilbert spoke up loudly, rubbing his eyes with gloved fists. "We're going on four freakin' days with no sleep! Even if we did find that crazy fucker Braginski there's no way we'd be able to fight him!"_

_From near by, Feliks nodded. "As much as I, like, totally hate to admit it that douche bag's right." He said, flicking a few rogue strands of blonde hair back, "I most defiantly need some beauty sleep. And you all need to bathe- have you smelled yourselves lately? Like, gag." To emphasize this, he stuck out his tongue, pulling his perfect lips into a little pout._

_"Danke. I appreciate that, you flamer."_

_"You're out numbered, dude." Alfred informed him, crossing his arms over his chest, "we're camping here tonight. Besides, it's not like we've seen any trace of Ivan or his goonies for the past week, Maybe we scared them off the last time we kicked their Commie asses!" He laughed, then strutted off to where he had dropped his sack. "Hey! Last one in the water gets to clean everyone's clothes!" He called, beginning to strip his top off and head for the water._

_However, the young man was quickly stopped by Elizaveta, who held an arm out, making him come to a (practically) screeching halt. "Excuse me? I do believe the term you Americans use is 'Lady's First'." She told him, smirking some._

_"I would not get your hopes up, Elizaveta," Vash grumbled as he and Lilli approached her right, silver gun in hand, "I'm not so sure he knows the meaning of the term…" He twirled it around his finger menacingly, giving Alfred a bone chilling glance, "though it is probably time he learned…"_

_The blue eyed man swallowed hard, then gave a quick nod. Alfred felt no need to get into an argument with Vash, the one who was perpetually armed. Once he had even heard Lilli telling someone that he slept with two guns- who knew how many he had when he was awake and no one could see under his wide coat._

_Elizaveta grinned at the fact that she had won, "let's go wash up, Lilli, while the boys set up camp." She told the little girl as she turned, headed down the shore to the water. _

_The small blonde nodded, trotting after the older one. "Alright, then." She agreed softly, carefully undoing the purple ribbon that was tied tightly around a lock of hair. Before she got any farther, though, Lilli stopped and turned back around. "Are you coming, too, Jeanne?" She asked, looking at the young blonde woman that stood close to Francis._

_"Oui! Je- ah, I mean yes, I am coming." Jeanne told her, "as long as it is alright with Monsieur Bonnefoy?" She asked, looking up at the man whose side she almost never, ever left. Not that she was aloud to- after all, she was sent on this mission with them in order to guard the young man, who happened to be the President's son._

_As always, Francis just chuckled, voice coming out in more of a purr when he spoke the young woman, "ah, ma chere- how many times must I tell you that you do not have to ask every time you move?" He questioned, "and that you must simply call me Francis- there is no need for formalities here." With that he winked, pressing her along. Jeanne could do nothing but nod, following after Lilli._

_"Ahhh, Lizzy!" Feliks whined, "don't I get to come, too?"_

_Laughter, "of course, Leksi, come on!" She waved him over. The blonde male squealed excitedly, dashing on after the girls, pulling off his clothes with them as they ran along._

_Gilbert gaped after them. "What? He gets to go in with the girls? What the hell is up with that?" The albino man spat, furious._

_As he walked by, Gilbert's younger brother rolled his eyes, dropping the needed tent-building equipment at his feet. "Because we know that Poland is not going to try to molest them, bruder." Ludwig explained half-heartedly, "now start working. Veniciano and Francis are making dinner." He then walked away once more, back to where he was setting up his tent and Veniciano's._

_

* * *

_

About an hour later the girls (and Feliks) made their way up to where the boys had been cooking dinner and setting up tents, sniffing the air as they smelled something rather odd for the middle of the night. "Are we eating, like, pancakes or something?" Feliks asked, pulling his towel close to him.

_"Oui- but of course!" Francis replied, flipping one onto a flimsy paper plate, "we must not waist food! And these were made by mon petite Mathieu!" The Frenchmen explained proudly, pushing the nervous looking Canadian boy up in front of him with the spatula he was holding._

_Shyly, Matthew nodded, "yeah, I made them. I hope you all like them." He said very, very softly, keeping his eyes trained to the ground._

_The Pole just gave him an odd look, "right. And you are-?"_

_Not wanting to end up in the middle of the ensuing argument, Elizaveta grabbed one of the plates and snuck off. The rest of the men, she noted silently, were beginning to head for the water, getting undressed as they did so. Already, she could hear Alfred and Arthur fighting- well, Arthur yelling at Alfred, who just laughed in reply- and immediately, a thought started to form in her head. She could tell the two of them had something going on and she was not about to miss what it was. _

_But before she could get any closer to the lake, she was stopped in the same way she stopped Alfred. With a jolt of surprise, Elizaveta looked up to see Roderich standing, half naked, before her, his arm out to stop her. One of his eyebrows was raised in question as he lowered his hand. "What exactly are you doing?"_

_"Ah, nothing," She grumbled, knowing now that she was defiantly busted, "just- looking for a place to set up my tent…" _

_At her words, Roderich turned away slightly, looking back. "I already set it up for you," he mumbled, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose, "so you do no need to worry about that…"_

_That was even more surprising than finding him only half clothed before her. "You- what?" She asked, eyes wide, "you set up my tent? Why?"_

_The Austrian just shrugged, "it was something a gentleman would do." Then he gave a rare little smirk as he saw her about to argue, "even in wartimes they still exist, Elizaveta."_

_At that she shut her mouth, glancing down at the dirt and giving a little shiver. As her eyes darted away his darted over her, noting that she herself was only in a rough towel, one of the ones the army had provided him. This immediately brought a blush to his cheeks, the realization that she was practically nude before him. "Perhaps you should go and get some sleep," he suggested, "Gott knows that England will have us moving out first thing in the morning."_

_"Yes, of course." Elizaveta agreed, "__köszönöm, Roderich- for setting up my tent, that is…" She told him, giving a little bow before brushing past him, just barely stopping herself from freezing at the feeling of his skin against her own._

_Elizaveta had liked the Austrian aristocrat for a very long time, since nearly the beginning of the war. Perhaps, she thought, that this was the night to make her feelings toward him known…_

_

* * *

_

It took merely a quarter of the time for the men to finish washing themselves than it did the women and by the time they were done the moon was high in the sky and they were exhausted. Half heartedly they mumbled their goodnights and farewells to eachother, heading off in the directions they had set their tents up in (so they wouldn't get them confused, each tent was a different colour or colour combination), shutting their flaps and falling asleep almost instantly. For the first two hours, Antonio was charged with watching the camp, setting up his post in the center of the circle they had formed.

_Roderich had made sure to put his tent a bit farther away from everyone else's, hoping that he would be able to play some of his beloved violin before settling in for the night. It had been much too long since he had gotten to and he yearned to play it once again. _

_However, when he pushed open the front of his tent, Roderich came face to face with Elizaveta. The girl was sitting on the ground looking up at him, wrapped up in the blanket he had place on the floor of the tent appearing- from what he could see- to have nothing on underneath. "Elizaveta?" He asked, alarmed yet quiet, being careful not to wake any of the other campers or draw attention to them._

_"S-szia, Roderich." She replied, just as softly, "would you mind so much if I slept in here, tonight? My tent is- cold…"_

_"Nein, that is fine," he told her, "I will sleep in your tent, then."_

_But before he could walk out, Elizaveta reached for him, grabbing his ankle, "wait- that's not what I meant." The Hungarian girl told him, shaking her head, "if you leave it will be just as cold. I wish- for you to stay." She explained quietly, obviously embarrassed by her own words. To emphasize what she meant by wanting him to stay, Elizaveta rose, meeting his eyes with her own the entire time, pressing herself close to the man when she was up. "Please stay…" she whispered and leaned up, lightly pushing her lips against Roderich's._

_When she tried to pull away, he held onto her, putting his arms around her waist and pulling her close. Yes, Roderich wanted the same thing Elizaveta did, and just as badly._

_It was only an hour or so before sunrise when a noise outside the tent the two had shared that night roused Roderich from his sleep, making him reach for his glasses. "What is it?" Elizaveta murmured, more than half asleep, from where she slept. Most of her body was curled a top Roderich's own, her head tucked under his chin, with the thin blanket draped across the both of them. That meant that when he moved, she woke up. _

"_I heard something," he answered, propping himself up on his elbows, "from outside the tent. I want to go see what it was."_

_But as he tried to stand Elizaveta whined, wrapping her arms around his waist. "No, Roderich- it was probably just Alfred and Gilbert changing shifts, you know how loud they get. Just go back to sleep…"_

_Reluctantly, the man just sighed and laid back down, pulling Elizaveta into his arms once more as she cuddled into him._

_It wasn't two seconds after Roderich had closed his eyes that scream and a yell rang out as the report of a gun sounded twice, with two bullets whizzing through their tent. The first just barely missed the couple and, by some miracle, Roderich managed to roll over onto Elizaveta to cover her just as the second flew through, that one carving its way across the young man's back._

* * *

Roderich woke with a start, his breathing heavy, in the room he shared with his wife at Alfred's house. Careful not to wake Elizaveta, who slept soundly beside him, he reached for his glasses, pulling them on quickly and looking around the room.

It was just a normal room, all decorated for Christmas. On the table next to Elizaveta sat a little machine, out of it coming the quiet chirps of fake crickets. Other than that and the quiet roar of traffic outside, there was nothing to be heard. No screams, no yells, no gunfire- nothing. He was in a completely normal room in a completely normal house.

He wasn't in the middle of the war. It wasn't the night that all of them had been captured.

Silently, Roderich got out of the bed, walking over to the bathroom that adjoined their room with Vash and Lilli's, and flicked on the light before shutting the door behind him. Taking deep breaths as he leaned over the sink, gripping the counter top, Roderich tried to forget his dream, just as he always did. The memory of that night, though, only brought back the memories of the year that ensued after and when he couldn't forget after 15 minutes, Roderich reached into a drawer and pulled out two bottles- one of pills and the other a glass flask of dark alcohol.

Whiskey, to be specific. Thought he hated the tasted it never failed to "take the edge off", as Arthur had told him the first Christmas they all spent together after the war. Drinking it nightly had become a habit of his.

Flicking the cap of the pill bottle open he raised it to his lips, downing three or four and taking a long drink of the whiskey after. Once he felt numb enough Roderich shoved both bottles back into the drawer and reopened the door, not even bothering to turn the light off as he got back into bed, his wife curling up to him as he settled once more.

"Where did you go?" She murmured, more than half a sleep, just like she had been that night.

"Bathroom," he answered, "I just had to use the bathroom, like I do every night."

Elizaveta gave a little sound of remembrance in her sleep. "Of course."

He was lying and Elizaveta knew it, she always did- he never seemed to realize that she could smell the hard alcohol on his breath. At the time he would feel guilty, a horrible, pounding guilt at the fact that his wife never said anything to him about his drinking, and then he would promise himself that the next night he would stop- the next night he wouldn't have a drink.

Slowly, though, that guilt and those thoughts edged into a calm, dreamless sleep and when he awoke, fresh and new the next morning, Roderich would forget all about the nightmares of the night before. Forget the nightmares and the silent promises he had made to himself.

It would never end.

* * *

And there's chapter six! We had a little bit of a time skip, from the guys going to get the Christmas Tree to later that night but I figured there wasn't anything else important to put there.

Hopefully this will hold you over until next week!

_köszönöm- _Thank you

_Szia_- Hello

Both are Hungarian

Love you all!

~Sami


	7. Chapter 7

I'm so sorry it took me so long to update! I've been extremely busy and I'm not very happy with this chapter, like, at all.  
Please do not kill me and please continue reading after this chapter. I promise you it shall get better

* * *

"Ah, Elizaveta! Ohmigosh, it's, like, so wonderful to see you!" Feliks screeched as he saw the young woman and her husband descending the stairs. He jumped from the couch and rushed into Elizaveta's open arms, both of them giggling and squealing excitedly.

Roderich detangled his arm from the best friends, patting Feliks on the arm lightly. "Good morning to you as well, Feliks," He mumbled, heading down the stairs all the way and over to the couch. "Good to see you, Toris." The Austrian nodded toward the brunette on the couch, who smiled kindly back.

"Oh, hello, Roderich- how have you been lately?" Toris questioned, turning a little to face the other.

The man with glasses gave a shrug and opened his mouth to answer. Unfortunately, before he could do so a booming voice exploded into the room. "You're finally up! Great, dude! So what do you say to a guy's-day-out?" Alfred asked, rolling his way over.

Blinking, Roderich looked down at the blonde in confusion. "Excuse me?" He asked, "guy's-day-out?"

"Yes. Alfred insists we do this absolutely blasted male bonding thing that Americans are so fond of." Arthur sighed from behind him, shaking his head. It was only ten in the morning and the Briton already looked exhausted- Roderich had to assume he had been chasing the younger around nearly the entire time they had been awake. Especially as he nonchalantly gripped the handles of Alfred's wheelchair, thus insuring he could not escape him any longer.

Alfred laughed, trying to wheel away but immediately getting pulled back by Arthur, which stopped his laughter. "It'll be great! Everyone else is going so you have to, too."

"I think it will be good for you, Roderich." Elizaveta told her husband from where she was perched with Feliks on the stairs, still. "You never get to spend time with anyone else except for me, anymore. Besides, I'll stay here with Feliks and Lilli."

"Totally, Roddy, I'll take, like, super care of her." Feliks promised, "please can she stay? Please please please? Toris is leaving to so I'll be all alone." The man pouted, the unscarred corner of his gloss covered lips pulling down. "I mean, sure, Lilli will be here but she's really hard to, like, talk to 'cause she's either really quiet and antisocial or just stares at you while you talk which is really-"

Feliks continued to babble and complain but Roderich tuned him out, having already decided on what he was going to do. Speaking over the blonde's chatter, the older man said, "fine, I will go. If it is fine with Elizaveta then it is fine with me."

At his words the two best friends squealed, jumping up and down excitedly (and carefully, being that they were still on the stairs). The vibrations awoke Lilli, who walked out of the room she was sharing with Vash, still clad in her pajamas. "What is going on?" She asked sleepily, rubbing her eye as she looked at the group, "Basch?" The youngest called her fiancé by the nickname she had given him, "The shaking woke me up…"

From where he was, Vash pushed his way to the front of the crowd so that Lilli could see him. Silently, he signed up to her that everything was fine and that it was just Feliks and Elizaveta jumping excitedly.

"Oh, because all of you boys are going out tonight?"

"Ja," Vash responded, nodding, "we are going to be leading soon, alright?" He told her slowly and clearly, giving little signs with his hands every few words.

Lilli just smiled and walked down to where the men had gathered. "Okay, have fun, ja? Danke for telling me yesterday, Basch." She said, reaching up and hugging him tightly, he hugging her back.

Unfortunately, their cute moment was broken when Alfred let out a shrill, flirty whistle and a "get some!" making Vash pull back. A thick red blush covered his face as he glared at the wheelchair bound man, leaving Lilli thoroughly confused.

"Shut it, you clart." Arthur told Alfred, smacking him in the head.

"Ve~ Let's go, let's go!" Veniciano insisted, tugging on Ludwig's good arm- the other he had wrapped up in a sling, so he didn't have to worry about it- "I want to see Ludwig get drunk again! It's always so funny! Especially when Gilbert is around!" The happier of the two Italians laughed, little curl bouncing slightly.

His older brother sighed, a hint of anger seeping through. "Fratello, it is only noon- bars in America don't open until two." Romano attempted to explain calmly, "and no one else gives a shit about that potato sucking bastard that you're so fond of." He growled, glaring (from a distance) at Ludwig, who rolled his eyes.

Antonio put his hand on Romano's head, being much taller than the younger man. "Ah, mi Tomate, that is not very nice. You should apologize to whoever you were talking to," the Spaniard instructed. Then a worried look crossed his features, "it was not me, was it?" He pouted, "all I want to do is make my little Romano happy~" With that Antonio grinned and hugged Romano around the waist, nuzzling into his neck.

As usual, his actions caused the angry Italian to have a little freak out, attempting to push his Spanish lover off of him. "Chigi! Let me go, you stupid tomato loving jackass!" Romano squealed in a panic.

"Alright, dudes, let's head out then! Time to do manly stuff!" Alfred announced, giving up on trying to wheel away and allowing Arthur to push him. The men bid farewells to their women (and Feliks) and began heading out.

The last two out the door were Gilbert and Matthew, with the albino yelling, "verdammt, Mattie! If you keep disappearing like that _I'm_ going to forget you one day! And do you have to bring that bear with you?" To which Matthew said nothing, even though he had been right there the entire time.

* * *

It really wasn't that late when they returned.

Elizaveta and Feliks and Lilli had spent the whole day chatting and finishing the decorations. The little group laughed and enjoyed themselves, getting time to gossip about their men and their lives since they had seen each other last. Thanks to Toris, Feliks had finally gotten around to painting his house pink- something he had wanted to do before he had been drafted into the war- and the two were still going steady. Lilli, after making the others swear they would not tell, announced that she had moved in with Vash, finally getting out of her family's house. Naturally, Elizaveta went last, after listening to everyone else, and explained that she and Roderich were working on having a baby- the news making Feliks absolutely shriek in joy and making her promise that he could be the baby's Godmother. The Hungarian woman had to calm him down quickly, explaining that there was the possibility that she couldn't have a baby, because of what had happened during the war…

Just after that the men pushed into the house, an aura of anger sweeping over the house.

"I don't give a fuck! You should have let me kill those guys after the way they treated mein bruder and Mattie!" Gilbert's voice yelled as he slammed the door open, making Feliks scream in surprise from the living room, "they ought to be lucky they're even still alive!" Matthew was tucked under the albino's arm, tightly clutching his polar bear. The silent blonde kept his eyes trained down, as if he were afraid to look up.

Suddenly Ludwig's arm shot out and grabbed his older brother by the collar, pulling him around to face him as the blonde German passed through the doorway. "Mein Gott, shut your mouth, bruder!" He barked, trying as hard as he could to keep his voice down, "you are throwing everyone else into a frenzy and terrifying Veniciano. So. Be. Quiet."

Clamping his mouth shut Gilbert ground his teeth together, jaw set in anger. "You would care about your little Italian more than you would me, wouldn't you?" He snapped, "you've always cared more about him than me and even when I try and defend you, you just tell me to shut up!"

"Feliks- what's going on?" Elizaveta asked, rising from her seat, ready to rush into the other room. But nearly as soon as she did Roderich and Toris made their way in, just behind Ludwig and in front of Vash, looking around quickly for their partners. With them were Antonio and the Italian brothers, Veniciano clinging tightly to his older brother. Romano grabbed at Roderich's arm, leaning in and whispering something in his ear as the German brothers continued their fighting- to which Roderich nodded.

Their group quickly and silently walked to those who had stayed home, Roderich gripping his wife's arm tightly. "We need to get you all upstairs… now." He told her quietly and in Hungarian, so no one else could understand them, "nothing good came of tonight."

Elizaveta blinked, thoroughly confused, "what happened? What's going on?" She asked as she reached for Lilli, helping the deaf girl up as she desperately glanced around, trying to figure out what was going on.

But her husband just shook his head, starting to pull her along. "I will tell you later but right now you need to go upstairs."

"Oh, please, Roderich- I can handle myself."

"I know. But we need you to take care of Veniciano right now." He told her in a hurried voice, "he's having an episode and no one else can calm him down. Please, Elizaveta. I will tell you everything later."

At hearing of Veniciano, Elizaveta immediately made up her mind. The girl had been very close to the exuberant young man since the very beginning of the war, always viewing him as a kind of younger brother and taking care of him. Now, they could always depend on the woman to help calm the man down, even when Ludwig himself could not.

So she nodded and very carefully, Romano eased his younger brother to her, whispering the most soothing words he knew in Italian. As soon as Elizaveta felt Veniciano's hands grab at the fabric of her dress she wrapped her arms around him. "It is alright, Veniciano," she whispered, "everything is going to be alright."

Roderich lightly kissed his wife's forehead before sweeping away once more, going to try and calm Ludwig and Gilbert, Toris following close behind him. Feliks kept a hold of Elizaveta's arm, leading her up and making sure she didn't fall or trip up the stairs.

Just as they made it to the top of the stairs there was another loud bang and the quiet fighting turned to yelling as Alfred and Arthur's voices joined in.

* * *

Again, I am not at all happy with this chapter. It was sort of a filler and I needed a current conflict to raise the tension in the house and I really liked it at first.  
Then I was like "blah". So toward the end, I just wanted to get it done. Sorry for any mistakes/feelings of being rushed.

Next chapter you'll get the full story, if not the whole fight.  
Perhaps, _perhaps,_ even another flashback to the war to give some light on something that Elizaveta mentioned.

Please don't hate me for this stupid chapter

~Sami


	8. Chapter 8

Another update? So soon? Yep! Tryin' to make up for how long it took me to update before.  
No explanation of what happened last chapter but you do get another Flash back to the war! The explanation chapter will come next.

Enjoy~

_

* * *

_

_"How long has it been?" Matthew asked, his quiet voice slicing through the silence like a hot knife through butter._

_It was Heracles who responded from the cell next to his, "three weeks. I've been counting."_

_"And how can you even tell?" Romano inquired skeptically, "when was the last time we saw sunlight?"_

_"It is your biological clock, Romano-san," Kiku explained with the slightest of exasperation in his voice, "even in darkness you will sleep and wake according to your Circadian rhythm…"_

_Yet another silence followed his explanation, no one really knowing how to respond. It was almost always like this, when they were left alone in their cells, able to speak with eachother without needing to worry about Ivan overhearing them. Three weeks- it had been three weeks._

_After that moment of silence, Veniciano asked, "how long has it been since we saw the girls?" _

_…no one bothered to tell him. It had been nearly as long…_

_With a sudden bang, the door to the hall that their cells were in creaked open with an eardrum shattering squeal, making them all fall completely quiet once more. Two different pairs of foot steps walked into the long room- one much heavier than the other- and shut the door behind them. "Don't worry," a soft, kind voice announced, "it's just us. Berwald, tell them it's you." _

_"S'jus me n'Tino." A gruff voice drawled when the other told him to. "Dun worr'."_

_Then a light flicked on, illuminating the pitch blackness and making the young group groan. But it revealed two blonde men- one small and feminine looking, the other large and appearing very scary- both of them carrying trays with a few bowls on them. The smaller of the two smiled slightly, apologetically, and said "we brought you some food. It's not much but it's better than nothing. Sorry."_

_He approached the first cell, the one holding Alfred, and slipped the bowl under the tiny slit under the bars. The American grinned and grabbed the food up, already starting to shove the soggy rice into his mouth. "Thanks Tino, dude! God, I was starving!" He mumbled through his mouthful of food, giving a quick thumbs up._

_Tino, the smaller, nodded and smiled just a little more, "it's no problem," the Fin told him honestly, "it's the least we can do. Right, Sve?" He called to the other, using his nickname._

_The larger man gave one firm nod as he silently slid the bowl into Arthur's cell, who thanked him and began eating. Berwald barely ever spoke, so Tino generally spoke for him._

_"And ya' can't help us escape?" Gilbert asked, sitting up to receive his food._

_Tino straightened quickly and Roderich could have sworn he heard Berwald growl as he pushed in his bowl. The smaller blonde gave a strong shake of his head, sighing softly, "we can't. Like I have said before, Ivan has our son hostage and we cannot risk anything happening to him. You must understand." _

_They did, of course. Tino had spoken of his and Berwald's young son (yes, they were partners before the war had started), Peter, before. The boy was how they had ended up working for Ivan to begin with- in order to get the two of them on his side, Ivan had kidnapped their son before the war even began. The Russian had promised that after the war Peter would be returned completely unharmed… as long as they did everything he told them to without fail._

_The Fin and Swede were not evil like Ivan. They only wanted their beloved child back._

_Just before they left, Roderich managed to catch Tino's leg, making him stop and look down at him. "You haven't seen any of the girls that were with us, have you?" He asked almost pleadingly._

_But Tino just looked away sadly, closing his eyes. "I am- sorry. Ivan keeps them himself. We do fear for them, even more so than we do you…"_

Ever since they got Elizaveta and Lilli back, the men tried their hardest to protect them, since they couldn't when they needed them to most. Everyone knew that Elizaveta could take care of herself before they had been captured- even beating up the guys in their team on more than one occasion. She was tough and with Jeanne, they had no doubt that the three of them would be fine.

Until they were faced with Ivan. Never had they seen someone more broken than when they found Elizaveta.

Since then they tried to keep she and Lilli out and away from the fights that they had every year during Christmas. So when Roderich finally made his way to their room it was well past midnight, with Ludwig and Vash following him to get Veniciano and Lilli, respectively. "I apologize for what happened tonight," Ludwig told the other two in German, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I did not mean to cause such issues with my brother in front of everyone else."

Roderich just waved him off, replying, "it doesn't matter, Ludwig. I understand that Gilbert will not back down without a fight."

"Ja." Vash spoke up, "too bad Arthur had to get involved in all of it. Thank God Alfred was able to get him to shut up and calm down."

The German nodded, "he just had too much to drink- we all know how he gets when he drinks. It's not his fault he can't hold his liquor like we can."

It made them laugh, Ludwig's joke. It was so rare for him to be so light hearted, it slightly surprised Roderich and Vash, though they just shrugged it off, deciding he was just getting into the season.

Quietly, Roderich pulled the door to his and Elizaveta's room open, walking in to find them all sound asleep on the bed. The Austrian moved aside, allowing Vash and Ludwig to walk in and collect their loved ones. Roderich just watched as Ludwig bent over Veniciano, whispering something in his ear to make him roll over, letting go of Elizaveta and clinging to Ludwig, still asleep even as the blonde hoisted the copper haired man into the air. Vash, on the other hand, didn't even bother waking Lilli up- he simply pressed his arms under her and picked her up bridal style, carrying her out with her sleeping silently. Once the both of them were gone, Roderich woke up Feliks, telling him that Toris had fallen asleep down stairs and he needed to go and wake him up. The blonde mumbled something about Toris never caring about whether or not he got his beauty sleep and walked out drowsily.

Finally, Roderich was able to climb into his bed next to his wife, who was still sound asleep. Lightly, he kissed the back of her neck and whispered, "we should get you out of these clothes and into more suitable ones."

Grumbling something, Elizaveta rolled over to face her husband, fingers searching sightlessly for the buttons of his shirt, eyes still closed. "Just out of these clothes are fine- I don't need anything else on…" She whispered, starting to undo Roderich's shirt.

"Liebe…"

"Szerelem~" The young woman cooed, pressing her mouth to the closest this she could reach, which happened to be Roderich's jaw bone

Roderich sighed and removed his glasses, dropping them on the bedside table. In the end, he knew he had to give his wife what she wanted, despite the fact that he was beyond exhausted. He reached behind her head, helping Elizaveta's lips reach his, kissing her passionately. With his free hand, Roderich began to remove the pretty sun dress she had worn all day, giving her exactly what she wanted.

* * *

Kesesese~ My shimeji Prussia is sitting right where I'm trying to type XD  
Anyway, hope you liked that one! As this gets longer the rating may end up changing, unfortunatly. There won't be any Lemons or such but the other content may get more- mature. Especially when the flashbacks come along. Sorry for that but I believe it is needed for the developement of the characters.

SWEDEN AND FINLAND AND SEALAND YAY! I do love their cute little family- THEY'RE NOT EVIL! Trust me, you'll see ^-^

Liebe- Love, German  
Szerelem- Love, Hungarian

Thank you for reading! Review, if you can~

~Sami

PS- I _may_ right a few lemons as side stories to this one- both straight and yaoi. They would be posted on my profile. I dunno, we'll see...


	9. Chapter 9

I'm uploading this at 1:30am, even though I have One Act competition for Thespians tomorrow and I've got to be at the place by 8am.

We've got PruCan and USUK in this chapter, along with the "explination"- beware of Gilbert and Arthur's cursing.

Enjoy~

* * *

Matthew had to practically drag Gilbert upstairs, the albino not wanting to cease fighting with Arthur. The entire way to their room he argued and cursed in harsh Germany, occasionally trying to struggle away from the blonde, who kept a tight hold on his wrist all the while. "C'mon, Mattie," he would beg, "let me just go kick his ass. Just this once!" But Matthew just let out a sigh, refusing to let go.

It wasn't like he could let the German (_Prussian_, Matthew corrected himself silently. Gilbert hated being called German, always insisting his family descended from Prussia) just go and get into a fistfight with Arthur, anyway. There was no way in Hell Alfred would ever forgive him for such a thing- letting his partner knock his brother's fiancé senseless. Then the other blonde would complain about how he'd have to go through all the trouble of finding a new Best Man.

Luckily, as soon as they got into the bedroom Gilbert gave up, falling exhaustedly onto the king sized bed, pulling his little stuffed bird out of his pocket. The Canadian had to roll his eyes- and he chastised him for carrying a Polar Bear? He turned and went to walk into the bathroom when Gilbert's hand reached out, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him onto his lap. Once more, Matthew could do little but roll his eyes, knowing that his partner wasn't going to just let him go. "Mmmm," the red-eyed man hummed against his shoulder, "you got any pot, baby?"

He had to grit his teeth to stop from growling.

Sometimes, Matthew really did question whether Gilbert loved him- or the fact that he could get him pot. In the end, though, he knew deep down somewhere in his heart, Gilbert did love him. But in response to his question he shook his head, motioning up.

"Ah, seriously? You left it at home? Whyyyy?" The albino whined, Matthew feeling his pout through his sweatshirt as he slumped foreword. Then he proceeded to smack the other man in the head (on the side that didn't have the bandage- Matthew knew that the other side hurt most of the time. Well, pricked, Gilbert had told him, where his ear used to be). "Psssh, so what if they don't let you have it in America? We wouldn't have gotten caught!"

The words made him want to scream.

Of course, he didn't, though. No, instead Matthew scrambled out of Gilbert's arms when he first found the chance, pointing toward the bathroom and indicating he was going to take a shower. The very thought made Gilbert chuckle and grin. "Kesesese~ Can I come?" He asked, stumbling his way off the bed, "it might calm me down, Mattie…"

With a defeated sigh, Matthew nodded. What could he do, anyway?

* * *

"I hate that," hiccup, "fuckin' idiot." Arthur slurred as he slammed open the door of the master bedroom, Alfred wheeling in behind him. The drunken Brit kicked off his shoes as he walked, loosened his tie, and unzipped his pants before falling face-first onto the bed. "I fuckin' hate him, Alfred."

Frowning, Alfred hauled himself up out of his wheelchair and onto the bed, but up toward the pillows, as opposed to where Arthur had dropped at the end. "I know, Artie. You've said it, like, a billion times already." The darker blonde explained as he reached down, untying his shoes and tossing them off the bed. "Maybe you should just sleep it off. You'll probably feel better tomorrow." He told him as he began tugging him up from where he was lying, making him come to the pillows and roll over.

But the Brit just pouted, shaking his head. "Nope, I'm still going to hate that bloody wanker tomorrow, you mark my words. Ow, that hurt!" Arthur winced as Alfred tried very carefully to remove his partner's gloves, yet still managed to brush the burned skin a little roughly.

"Sorry, Artie," The American apologized, "didn't mean to…"

"I know."

There was a short silence in which Alfred simply held Arthur's severely scarred hands in his, looking them over. The things were maimed and gnarled from all of the burns he had undergone, not giving Ivan any information, and when the doctors had gone to do surgery on them his fingers had to be cut apart, the flesh had all healed together. There were still scars there from that, though they were barely visible in comparison to the rest.

Six months ago the pair had returned to England for Arthur's latest skin graft, since he was only covered for such operations in his home country- the one he had fought for. That was when they broke the news to them that they had done all they could for Arthur's hands and arms and there was nothing else they could do; no other skin grafts could repair the damage done and that, at this point, the Englishman was lucky to have kept his hands at all. He thanked the doctors for all of their work even though he wanted nothing but to break down inside, knowing that he would never be able to actually touch anything and feel it, again. Not even his dear Alfred. "You should have let me kill them, for what they said and did to you." Arthur whispered, eyes still glued on his practically useless hands.

But Alfred shook his head, "I couldn't let you- you could have hurt your hands beyond repair…" he murmured, chewing on his lip in the slightest, "besides, I was fine. I am fine."

"They knocked you out of your blasted wheelchair, Alfred!" Arthur burst suddenly, emerald green eyes darting up to meet sky blue ones, "they kicked Heracles' crutch out from under his arm and pulled off Gilbert's bandage! Those bloody fuckers deserved to have their arses handed to them, after embarrassing the lot of us like they did!"

The glasses-clad blonde could see tears beginning to well up in his fiancé's eyes, making him sigh. "Oh, Arthur…" he whispered, pulling him into his arms in a warm embrace. Arthur hugged him back with his upper arms, keeping his hands and lower arms away as he began to cry quietly.

Alfred just held him, knowing that the tears were mainly just the alcohol getting to him (Arthur always got all teary-eyed after he drank too much). "You always tell me to be the better person, you know." Alfred told him softly, stroking his hair lovingly, "maybe you should take that advice- it was best that we just let them go on. They got what they deserved, Artie, the manager kicked them out of the bar. And the people that were there, they helped! Some of them even recognized who we were, don't you remember how the bartender thanked us for our services to our countries and gave us free drinks? It was just those stupid guys that were being assholes- the rest of the people in the bar were nice- isn't that what counts? Arthur?"

Unfortunately, by the time Alfred got to the end of his speech Arthur had fallen fast asleep on his shoulder, obviously too worn out to keep up with the younger man. Sure, it sort of upset Alfred, since it was one of the rare times in which he showed off his intelligence, but he didn't think too much of it. Instead he simply sighed and undressed the other man (placing gloves on his hands that he used to sleep in), laying him down under the blankets once he was done and proceeded to undress himself. Finally Alfred joined his love, all cozy under the sheets, and shut his eyes, willing sleep to come.

But just before unconsciousness took him, Alfred felt Arthur curl up against his chest, snuggling into his warmth. On his tongue was an 'I love you, Alfred' whispered in his sleep.

* * *

Yes, I firmly believe Canada and Prussia are Pot Buddies. I actually think it suits them XDD

Anywho, remember this takes place in the future. I don't believe gay marriage is currently legal in New York (which is where this is taking place) but I could be wrong- please correct me if I am. In this future, it is legal in the US (in my opinion, it should be already. But, that's just me). Pot, however, is still not, though I believe it, too, should be legalized. Let the stupid people kill themselves, that's fine by me. I couldn't use it, anyway- I'm allergic. Plus it smells terrible.

I'm sorry I made Iggy into such a little girl in this chapter! But I needed some emotional conflict- originally it was going to be Prussia but then I decided it would be better if Iggy did it, since he gets all sobby when he drinks, anyway.

For those of you who were looking for dear Austria-Hungary, they'll be back next time. I figured it was about time to include some other characters and their issues. And now we have finished all that is wrong with Prussia!

Now I must go finish learning my 74+ lines and 4 monologues for tomorrow TT_TT

Thanks for reading! If you have the time, a little review would be lovely.

~Sami


	10. Chapter 10

This one's kinda short and sweet but you get another flashback, so have fun ^-^

Enjoy~

* * *

The next day was- strangely calm, taking into mind what had happened the night before. When Roderich lead Elizaveta down from their room that morning an eerie silence had fallen over the home, which was teeming thick with tension. Nearly everything was quiet, no noise being made except for Kiku's occasional cough and the sound of a frying pan sizzling in the kitchen, where Roderich assumed Matthew was making pancakes with Gilbert.

At the table, waiting for breakfast, were Kiku and Heracles, with the Japanese man pinning up the Greek's left pant leg to the knee, where it was empty. Heracles gave a little nod of greeting as the married couple walked in, joining them at the table. "Good morning, Elizaveta," he then voiced his welcome.

This caused Kiku to look up, smiling slightly as he saw the two, "hai, ohaiyo, Elizaveta-chan, Roderich-san." He then went back to his pinning, carefully placing another through the thick denim fabric.

Elizaveta grinned at the sounds of their voices, "Oh, 'morning you two! Is anybody else down?" She questioned politely, the finished with "besides Matthew and Gilbert." It was obvious that they were in the kitchen- Elizaveta could smell the Canadian's pancakes as soon as she walked in.

"No, it's just us." Heracles responded, "Vash and Lilli left a note saying they had left early to go Christmas shopping and Antonio came down a little while ago to get some water for Romano, saying that he was having a pretty bad episode today and he didn't know when they would be down. Otherwise we are pretty sure Alfred and Arthur are still sleeping, along with Feliks and Toris but you just missed Veniciano and Ludwig. Veniciano yelled something about going to find a certain kind of pasta for him to cook tonight as he nearly pulled Ludwig out the door."

"So he's feeling better?" Roderich asked.

Kiku nodded, not looking up from his work, "yes, he seemed to be. It was as if yesterday never happened."

There was a silence once more in which none of them spoke. This morning Roderich had explained to Elizaveta what had occurred the night before and just how angry Gilbert and Arthur had been- so much so that they had to be restrained. After the pause, Elizaveta asked, "are you okay, Heracles?"

A little chuckle rang through the air. "Of course," Heracles answered, his voice cool and collected as always, "there is no reason to dwell on what happened last night, after all that we have been through."

"Thank you, Heracles," Roderich told him, smiling slightly, "that was very well said."

Returning the smallest of smiles the Greek nodded back in thanks, then went quiet again. Just as he was finishing with the last pin Gilbert burst into the room from the kitchen, holding a plate stacked with pancakes in one hand, the other pushing the door open. "Well, look who finally decided to get up!" He commented, looking at Elizaveta and Roderich, "it's nearly 10am, morning birds. I wonder what the two of you did last night?" He gave one of his signature cackles, laughing at them mischievously as Matthew walked out as well, also holding two plates of his pancakes. Glancing up at the group he raised his eyebrow, then looked back down at his plates, sighing slightly.

The two put their plates down on the table, pulling others from underneath those holding the food and dishing them out to the other four. "It was Toris' turn to cook breakfast," Gilbert explained as he sat down, "but seeing as those two aren't up either" another short chortle "Mattie went a head and made breakfast, again. He says he hopes you don't mind."

"No, of course not, Matthew," Elizaveta swore to him, a sweet smile on her lips "your pancakes are always welcome- we only get them this time of year anyway. It's like a tradition!" She explained excitedly.

The praise made the blonde smile gratefully- not one of his tiny, shy smiles but a real smile. Rarely did he ever receive such kind words… if he was ever even noticed, that is. It was nice to be recognized, once in a while. Gilbert glanced over at his lover and smiled slightly at his happiness, "he says thank you."

Only about ten minutes into breakfast Alfred rolled in, shattering the quiet calm with a loud, "goooood mornin', y'all!" His voice taking on a thick, fake southern drawl, "Artie's taking a shower- he'll be out soon."

And from upstairs came an angry shriek after his yell. "It seems Feliks is up, now." Roderich said under his breath, just loud enough for his wife to catch. It made her giggle softly.

The tall blonde seemed unawares that he had awoken the Pole as he grabbed a plate, piling pancakes on it and sitting down next to Gilbert. It wasn't until his third mouthful of food that he looked around the room, "fey," Alfred mumbled, "wher'sh e'ery un elshe?"

"Heracles said they were out shopping," Gilbert answered, taking a drink of coffee, "they were gone when Mattie and I got down- well, all except for mein bruder and Veniciano. Those two left about a half hour ago."

Alfred responded with a little grunt of acknowledgement as he continued to chow down on the flapjacks.

* * *

_The President of the United States sat at the head of the table._

_As he spoke everyone could tell he was trying to lighten the mood- laughing, joking, being overly friendly to the news casts that were gathered 'round. Of course he was being nice to them- they were the only ones that would speak to him, relishing the fact that they got to meet the president. _

_They weren't there for the president, though. They were there to meet the "war heroes"- the only people who did not wish to be there._

_It was so awkward for them, having the cameras cast upon them as they sat in near silence. Veniciano clung to Ludwig, so close to tears that it seemed the drop of a pin may make him burst into sobs and next to him his older brother practically shook, visibly in pain. Antonio glanced around the table every few minutes or so, trying his hardest to remember what was going on as long as he could as Francis simply stared down at his plate, not caring at all about what was going on around him. Silently Roderich placed a scarred hand on Elizaveta's leg, making her jump in surprise and grasp at him, calming as she felt that it was him, the man trying to get her to stop shaking in fear. Arthur occasionally tried to grip the utensils provided to them but always dropped them nearly immediately, the pain his hands were causing him being too much whilst Alfred kept rolling back and forth in his wheelchair, repetitively willing his legs to move or twitch. Beside him his twin brother just sat, taking in everything that was going on, clutching at the plush polar bear that sat on his lap. Feliks continuously flipped his hair over his face every time he noticed a camera moving his way, trying as hard as he could to hide the clearly visible scar as Toris held his hand beneath the table, squeezing it tightly. Kiku had an oxygen mask over his mouth to keep him breathing, his hand on Heracles' leg to get him to stop twitching as he thought he felt the missing part of his leg. Lastly, Gilbert rubbed at the bandage over his missing eye and ear, the material itching terribly._

_No, none of them wanted to be there. They just wanted to go back to their homes and countries; places they hadn't been in nearly three years. _

_

* * *

_

Hope you liked it well enough! I don't have much to say here :P  
For those of you that wished my Troupe well at Thespian Comp. I thank you- we got a Superior but unfortunatly did not get chosen for state due to the asshole-ness of one judge DX

But, oh well.

Otherwise, congrats to Russia for getting the World Cup in 2018! Have fun, Ivan, dear!  
(And Qatar for 2022- didn't see that one coming...)

~Sami


	11. Chapter 11

I- I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update! I've been so increadably buisy it's rediculous. I don't want to burden you with my issues so here's your story.

Enjoy~

* * *

"It's two days before Christmas Eve- do you really think the Frog is going to show up?"

As Arthur and Antonio set the table for the dinner (well, more like feast) that Veniciano was cooking, they had gotten to talking about Francis. The Frenchman had yet to show up to the yearly party, which was severely irking the Englishmen. "Of course he'll come! Mi amigo, he always has."

Lucky for Antonio he was having a good day- his lapses in memory more spaced out that usual. Such occurrences happened every so often and he always thanked God whenever they did, because it meant he didn't have to bother Romano as much. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to exercise his memory usage because Romano was having a bad day, in return- the two hadn't left their bedroom but an hour prior. "Yes, well he's never been this late before, either. The bloody arse is probably back at his own home, wasting away on good wine and cheep girls."

"Arthur," Antonio said quietly, putting down his last plate, "you are aware of how much this hurts him-"

But before the other could respond there was a caterwaul of noise heard from the living room- a combination of clapping and cheers. Finally, there could be heard a definite "wahoo! The tree's up!"

At the sound even Veniciano emerged from his beloved cooking to see the excitement. "Ve? The tree is up? Magnifico!" He exclaimed, running for the living room to check it out.

Antonio glanced around the room, suddenly confused. "Ah, Arthur- what's going on?" He asked, obviously having forgotten their prior conversation.

So Arthur just let it go, not wanting to end up arguing with his friend. "They just put the tree up. Alfred sounds pretty excited about it."

"Then let's go see for ourselves!" He announced in return, following the Italian out the door. The Brit just sighed and shook his head and finished setting the table by himself before joining the rest of the party.

A huge smile spread across Elizaveta's face as she sniffed the air. "It smells lovely," she commented, lightly rubbing one of the branches between her fingers, "and I bet it looks ten times as beautiful."

Roderich nodded, watching her closely and pressing his hand to the small of her back as she backed up, making sure she didn't fall. "It's a decent one," he told her, "nothing like what we have at home, of course." He explained, looking up at the tree.

The tree was as green as could be and towered to the ceiling, leaving barely enough room to place a star at the top. Its branches were lush with leaves and thick with no large gaps or spaces to be seen, making everyone (well, almost) "ooh" and "ahh" at it. Even Roderich had to admit it was pretty nice, for something grown on a tree farm.

"Alright, who's putting the star on the top?" Alfred asked, looking around at everyone, "it's gotta go on first."

Immediately, Veniciano's hand shot up. "Ve~ I want to!" He exclaimed excitedly, almost jumping up and down.

But Ludwig shook his head, shoving his hand down. "You did it last year- let someone else do it."

"How about Lilli?" Toris suggested, "she hasn't done it before."

A murmur rippled through the crowd before Alfred announced, "yeah! Lilli can do it!" He wheeled over the smiling, unsuspecting girl and held the star out to her. "You're going to put the star on the top, okay?" Alfred explained slowly, allowing her to read his lips.

Lilli absolutely beamed, nodding as she took the ornate, golden star from his hands. "Thank you very much." She said, giving Alfred a quick hug about his neck. From behind Vash picked her up, hauling her onto his shoulders, making her squeak in surprise. They made their way over to the tree, still having to stretch to reach the very top.

Arthur walked in just in time to see his shining star he had brought from London placed on the tip of the tree, making him smile.

"_Can you, like, please get around to why we're here?" A bored-looking, green eyed man asked, "I mean_, poważnie_, I've got some serious shopping to do while I'm on this free little trip. It's not everyday one gets to come to America without charge." He said, flicking his shoulder length blonde hair back._

_From across the long table a silver haired man rolled his red eyes, making a gagging sound. "_Warum gehst du nicht den Mund halten, schwule?_" The translator that stood behind the man paused, trying to decide whether or not to correctly say what he had in English. But the seriously looking blonde beside the crimson eyed man shook his head, telling the translator not to. The green eyed blonde scoffed from across the table and sat back, crossing his arms over his chest._

_From the head a man much older than anyone in the group stood, clearing his throat to announce that he was about to speak. All eyes turned to him, ignoring the two that continued to glare at eachother. "I apologize for keeping you from your other- matters but I must inform you that what I am about to tell you is of the utmost importance. It may well change the course of history. For the entire world."_

" _M'kay- so spill it already, Prez." A young blonde man that sat beside the older one said, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose._

_A sigh escaped the President's lips at the teenager's words, "I'm serious, Mr. Jones." He murmured to the blonde, then spoke to the rest of the table, "you have been brought here from all over the world, one thing connecting every one of you."_

_A small Asian man nodded, stating, "yes. We are all from the Allies of the currently occurring war."_

_The President gave him a small smile. "That is correct, Mr. Honda, thank you. Yes, your countries- who are allied with eachother- have sent you here because of the war that is going on in Europe. I would assume that even you might know what I am talking about, Mr. Jones." To which the young man grumbled a yes. "We, the Allied Powers, are seeking to form an elite team to infiltrate the Axis Forces in Russia, where our main troupes cannot reach. This is where you all come in."_

_For a moment, a pregnant pause hung heavy in the air, his words washing over them. "We're- being enlisted into the war?" A brunette boy asked, blue eyes widening, "but- most of us aren't even old enough to be drafted!"_

"_In Europe it's sixteen now, you wanker." The man sitting on the other side of the president told him, "from what I can tell only a very few of us are under that."_

"_And all of you have different areas of expertise that we greatly need in our force." The President continued, "you're young, which makes you less likely to be greatly noted as a threat and you all excel in certain things. Mr. Zwingli, for example, is a weapon's expert and Mr. Ludwig Beilschmidt is one of the youngest experts on strategy." _

"_Ah, Monsieur, I believe you may have a problem with moi," a Frenchmen spoke up, "you see, Mon Pere is the President of my country. I very much doubt that he would let me fight in a war."_

_At his words the older man's eyes turned to him, "your father was the one that sent you. He believes that seeing you fight will up the spirit of your country. But you will have a guard with you at all times, so don't worry." He then turned to one of the Secret Service agents that was stationed at the door, "please, send in Ms. Chevalier." The man in black nodded and opened the door, mumbling something into his ear piece. _

_Not a moment later a girl stepped through the threshold, giving a respectful nod to the President. "Bonjour, Monsieur. You called for me?" She asked, not at all distracted by the staring young men._

"_Yes. Now that they know of their mission you may meet your charge- Mr. Bonnefoy, this is your personal guard." He said, gesturing to the girl, "Ms. Jeanne Chevalier. She, too, was chosen by your father to protect you."_

_Unfortunately, he couldn't suppress a laugh. "C'est vrai? This young girl is to protect me in war?"_

_Before the President could vouch for her, Jeanne herself spoke up. "Monsieur, s'il vous plait- do not judge me by the way I appear to you. I guarantee you that I am the best choice in all of the French army."_

_Suddenly, Mr. Jones jumped up from his seat. "Hey! I've heard of you! They talk about you on TV sometimes! You're the girl they call Joan of Arc! You're fucking awesome!"_

_Turning to him, she nodded. "Jeanne d'Arc but, yes- I have appeared on television once or twice."_

"_There you are," the President told the Frenchman, "she is more than qualified, if even Mr. Jones knows who she is."_

_Mr. Bonnefoy gave up his attempt at argument with a quiet sigh, nodding in agreement._

_

* * *

_

In light of being super busy I also attended another Hetalia Day a few weeks ago- it was a Christmas one and it was so much fun!  
I can honestly say I've never met nicer people than the ones from the Hetalia fandom. I'm actually pretty good friends with the ones I've met ^-^

In late January there's another meet up in Orlando at a one day anime convention. I'm going as Chibitalia~

Well, I hope you all have wonderfully happy holidays! Enjoy them very much!

~Chibi


	12. Chapter 12

I'M SUCH A HORRIBLE PERSON FOR NOT UPDATING SOONER!  
I got a new laptop for Christmas (his name is Tino XD ). Thank god, 'cause my old one just crashed and burned on me- taking with it all of my stories and files and the 500+ Hetalia pictures I have on it.  
So I had to write this all over- which was mainly done at school.

But, as promised, I give you France.

Enjoy~

* * *

It was a little past 3am when the house alarm went off, followed by the harsh sounds of glass shattering and things thumping to the ground. Paranoid as they were, nearly everyone in the house jumped out of their beds, rushing to see what was happening.

Being that their bedroom was the only one on the bottom floor, Arthur was the first one on the scene, Alfred right behind him. Armed with a gun, the Brit flicked the light on, illuminating the blackness to reveal the intruder, the sight of him making Arthur groan in anger. "God damnit, Francis!" He yelled, throwing his gun to the ground, "what in the bloody hell are you doing breaking into my house in the middle of the night?"

With a laugh the drunken Frenchman stumbled across the floor, flopping himself onto the living room couch with a sigh. "Bonjour to you too, Angleterre," he greeted, tipping his head and his wine bottle toward the thick browed man before pressing it to his lips, taking a long swig of the alcohol. "I jus' flew in, of course." He explained, then let his head loll back, twisting to look at the group of people gathered on the stairs. "Bonjourrrr, everyone!" He called up to them, giving a flamboyant little wave of his hand, "I'm sure you are all very excited that I have finally arrived!"

"C- ciao, Francis." The younger Italian greeted back, giving a small wave from Ludwig's side.

Francis' eyes swiveled to find the voice, landing on Veniciano after only a second. "Ah, Veniciano, mon cher!" He exclaimed, pushing himself up slightly as he grinned at the young man, "it's been too long! Come, have a sit on Big Brother France's lap!" He told him, a slight purr in his voice as he slapped his leg.

To insure he tried nothing, Ludwig gripped his lover's arm, keeping him by his side. The Italian's older brother growled, gnashing his teeth together as he emerged from behind Antonio. "Damnit, you French bastard! You woke us all up!" He spat, obviously resisting the urge to stop his foot. With a little smile, Antonio patted his head, trying to get him to calm down.

"Shhh, mi tomate," he told him lovingly, "it's going to- ah, Francis! When did you get here?" The Spaniard asked, cocking his head to the side, not even questioning the gun in his hand

Before Francis could answer he went to take another drink. Unfortunately for him, Arthur pulled the bottle out of his hand, making the Frenchman whine slightly. "Oh shut up, will you? You stumble in here drunk out of your mind in the middle of the night, wake all of us up, and expect me to let you keep drinking? Rubbish!" He snapped, shoving the bottle into Alfred's hands.

But the French blonde simply gave a little hum and stretched out farther on the off white couch, giving a yawn. "Merde, Arthur, must you be so loud?" He groaned, shutting his eyes and covering his ears with his hands.

A deep growl rippled through Arthur's teeth as he balled his fists, raising one in a threat to Francis. Luckily, Alfred managed to grab at him before he could start pounding on the now sleeping Frenchman, "dude," Alfred mumbled, "just- let it go and let's go back to sleep. You can beat him up in the morning." He promised, tugging at the older blonde's waist. "Please?"

Arthur couldn't say no. Despite how absolutely furious he was his rage could wait until morning, when Francis would actually have a bit of an idea as to what was happening. With a wince, he un balled his fist (he hadn't gotten a chance to pull his gloves on before running out to investigate and he had managed to tear open a few scars and scabs that still dotted his skin) and turned swiftly, walking away. Without another word he disappeared into the kitchen, the sound of running water hitting Alfred's ears.

The young man couldn't help but shake his head, turning to face their guests who still lined the stair way. "Sorry about that, guys," he told them, giving an uncomfortable chuckle. "I hope you can all get back to sleep- I think Francis is, er, going to stay on the couch. I guess we'll deal with him in the morning."

With a small bow of understanding, Kiku sheathed his katana, responding, "it is fine, Alfred-san. As you say, it is better to be safe than sorry." And with those words he turned to Heracles and started back to their room.

A few other sounds of agreement and nods of understanding followed as the blonde watched the rest ascend the stairs once more, putting away their guns and other weapons as they did so. Alfred watched as they all filtered away, pair by pair, before heading into the kitchen, following Arthur's pained curses and angry expletives.

* * *

_"Did anyone not make it?" Alfred asked, his voice wavering from his lack of breath. His legs were limp and numb and Arthur had to practically drag him out of Ivan's base. "Did we lose anyone?"_

_Gilbert looked up from where he had been sitting, glancing around at the gathered crowd with his one eye. "We're going to soon if we don't find Elizaveta and Kiku a hospital, pronto." He told them, stumbling slightly as he pushed himself up. "Wait, where's Jeanne?"_

_Everyone froze, looking around at their surroundings. Jeanne- had they not found her in their hurry? They had looked everywhere; she had to be-_

_Suddenly, the barely conscious Hungarian girl mumbled something in a raged breath, recognizing something. "What was that?" Roderich asked, trying to once again stir the girl in his arms awake, "Elizaveta, you said something. Do you know where Jeanne is?"_

_Still, she didn't open her eyes. But as quiet as a dove's feather landing on the ground, she repeated "Jeanne's dead" before once again lapsing into nothingness._

_And with those two words the world was lost to Francis._

_

* * *

_

You get a little baby flashback. But, now you know what officially happened to Jeanne, though the majority of you had already guessed it :P  
Yes, she died. IT KILLED ME BUT SHE HAD TO. She's Joan of Arc, remember?

Originally, I was going to add a few more human characters in, like Maria Theresa or Napoleon, but I decided against it. Jeanne is good enough.  
Plus, I just ship Jeanne/France so hard XD


	13. Chapter 13

Lame chapter is lame. Uploading this during Anatomy, 'cause I have my laptop and my teacher is never actually here.  
Enjoy~_

* * *

_

_"Woah, it's like looking in a mirror!" Alfred laughed as he stood before Matthew, looking him over intently. "My name's Alfred F. Jones- but you can just call me The Hero, since I'm the one that's gunnu be winning this war!" Another boisterous, boastful laugh escaped his lips._

Right, he's the American_, Matthew thought to himself, the returned a small, bashful smile. "I'm Matthew," he introduced himself softly, "Matthew Williams- from Canada." He explained, clutching at the stuffed polar bear he was carrying with him._

_Alfred put his hands on his hips, smirk slightly. "Canada, eh? So we're practically neighbors!"_

_"You're more than neighbors, Mr. Jones," one of the officers from the earlier meeting told him, making his way over to the two North Americans, "Mr. Williams is your twin brother."_

_Absolute silence, broken only by the American's disbelieving laugh. "Dude, that's hilarious, but I'm an only child. There's no way he could be my twin."_

_The man looked at Matthew, "and you, Mr. Williams?"_

_Matthew blushed slightly, stating "mon Papa adopted me when I was a baby- he did the same with my sister, but she is from Seychelles. I've- never met my birth parents, all I know is that they were American."_

_"Well, the both of you were adopted at birth. Your mother died while in labor because she was not able to make it to a hospital in time; your father knew that he would not be able to take care of you on his own. That night you were given up for adoption- we were extremely lucky to find identical twins such as you."_

_But Alfred shook his head in denial, "you've got to be fucking joking, dude. My parents so would have told me if I was adopted."_

_"We have your birth certificates, sir," he responded, "Alfred Franklin Williams and Matthew Williams- born on the same day, to the same mother, five minutes apart." The man told him, crossing his arms in front of his chest, "we have the documents, if you'd like proof. Like I said before, you are the ideal set of twins for this operation. Except for your, er, personalities, the two of you identical in every way, shape, and form."_

* * *

Alfred stared out the window, watching the snow drift gently to the ground, covering white with white, making the world appear as though it were shrouded in fresh, clean linen. It always reminded him of when he and Arthur were remodeling the house to fit his needs and so that his boyfriend could move in (the Brit just had to have his study, of course). The construction workers had covered practically everything in the house with white bed sheets to keep them from getting dirty, which meant he had to struggle up the stairs every night to find a place to sleep.

Winter always, _always _depressed Alfred. Before the war, he used to love it; running around, building forts, having snowball fights, making snow angels- all of the awesome things that came with the season. But, now-

"What's it look like?" Elizaveta's voice asked suddenly, nearly making Alfred fall out of his wheelchair. Lost in his private thoughts, he hadn't noticed the young woman make her way over to join him at the window, blank eyes gazing out at the scenery (Alfred had always thought that, if he didn't know the woman was blind, he never would have guessed it). "Alfred?" She asked after a pause, curious as to why he had yet to provide an answer to her question.

The blonde pulled himself from his thoughts and, with a little laugh, responded "cold. Looks very, very cold."

Rolling her eyes, Elizaveta mumbled, "that's descriptive," under her breath, pressing her hand against the glass. A few seconds later, a smile graced her lips, entire being brightening up. "It's snowing, isn't it?"

Cautiously, Alfred nodded; _maybe she isn't completely blind at all! _He thought, "yeah, it is. How did you know that?"

But the woman just shrugged her shoulders, like her knowing was no big deal, what-so-ever. "I've lived in Hungary and Austria my entire life- I was outside earlier and it felt like snow weather," she explained, then continued on to say "but I also kind of figured there would be no other reason for you to be sighing by the window." She told him with a laugh, face lighting up with humour- and a little something else.

Alfred could clearly see a bit of mischief twinkling in her eyes, causing a smirk to stretch across her his lips. "What're you planning?" He questioned, leaning back and looking up at her.

"Well, everyone else is getting ready to eat, right? They wouldn't notice if we 'disappeared' for a few minutes." She suggested, turning her head toward his voice with a grin, "lead the way?"

He nodded excitedly and started rolling back until he saw Elizaveta had found the handles of his chair before he started wheeling away, leading her to the door.

* * *

The house woke up to a wonderful smell wafting through the house, only to find Francis not still passed out on the couch, but cooking a huge breakfast in the kitchen. Fluffy pancakes, juicy eggs covered in melted cheese, rich coffee, milk, sausage covered in syrup, light hash browns, and thick waffles occupied the center of the table, already, with only more food to come. "This is my apology for running so being so late," he told those that questioned his actions, stating it bluntly, "just accept it, mon ami." And with that he would go back to what he was doing, ignoring the rest of their questions.

Everyone was well aware that Francis did not actually enjoy being at their yearly Christmas parties, so they let it go, willing to deal with him a little more that time of year.

"Has anyone seen Alfred?" Arthur asked as he walked into the dining room, looking around for his fiancé, "I haven't been able to find him all morning.

Feliks' head shot up when he heard "haven't been able to find", glancing over at Toris. "Tori and I, like, totally weren't able to find Elizaveta, either!" He exclaimed, a little too loudly, "she's, like, gone missing or something!"

Slowly, Roderich raised his head to look firmly at Feliks, whose eyes went wide, "you lost my wife?" He asked, putting emphasis on each word, "I thought you were going-"

The rest of Roderich's words were lost as something hit the window hard, thumping solidly against the glass, making Feliks shriek in surprise and jump onto Toris' lap. Immediately, Ludwig and Gilbert were out of their seats, pulling guns and rushing toward where the sound had come from. Halfway there, though, they stopped suddenly, a new, familiar sound taking over.

Curiously, Matthew stood and made his way over, tugging the curtains open to reveal Alfred and Elizaveta, playing in the thick, fresh snow. Like a pro, the blind woman hit the blonde squarely in the head with a snowball, fits of laughter bubbling up and out of her lips. In the meantime, Alfred sat in the cold, soft ice, readying yet another ball to toss at her, obviously mumbling something to himself in anger.

"Snowball fight!" Gilbert yelled, running off to grab his jacket, pulling it on just before he flew out the door, followed by Matthew, of course.

Hearing this, Veniciano looked up excitedly from his breakfast, "vee~? Snowball fight? Let's go, fratello! Luddy!" He squealed, pulling his brother up and grasping at the German's arm as he dashed to follow Gilbert, catching the door before it slammed close.

Sooner or later, everyone ended up out in the snow, cackling and playing together.

From the Dining Room Francis watched them all, a small smile tugging at his lips. After a moment he, too, pulled on his coat and made his way out, almost immediately jumping on Antonio, causing Romano to scream at him and everyone else laugh.

* * *

Please don't hate me for the lame filler chapter- I promise the next one will be much better. I needed the characters (especially Alfred) to have some fun.

~Sami


	14. Chapter 14

So, rereading this I've noticed a lot of- flaws, which I'm really upset about.  
Sooner or later I'm going to go to the begining and fix some things, specifically the time line (which I've realized I've totally screwed up T_T )

Anyway, enjoy~

* * *

Though the morning was fun, the night proved to be exactly the opposite.

It was the day before Christmas Eve and everyone was coming and going through the house, taking care of final purchases and wrapping presents in their respective rooms. Everything started out fine, the group being friendly and cheerful toward one another, laughing and chatting and teasing lightly. Even Francis was getting into the spirit of things, attempting to seduce a few of the more naïve guests, such as Veniciano, Lilli, and, on occasion, even Alfred. Finally having both of his best friends there, Antonio seemed to be doing a little better, as well, sharing good times and experiences with Gilbert and Francis, the three lounging on the sofa and chairs, drinking sangria, beer, and wine, respectively.

When the Spaniard made it down, that is. Romano's pains were flaring up, again, just in time for Christmas, and whenever that happened, Antonio couldn't bear to leave his side. The Italian would scream profanities at him (in both Spanish and Italian) and rage and kick, whenever he was feeling well enough to even move, yelling at him to get out- that he could take care of himself just fine. The green eyed brunette never did, though; he just sat with his love and waited out the storm with him, taking the abuse- both verbally and physically.

Eventually, Romano would tire himself out, though, putting up such a fight in his state, and demand his morphine from the Spaniard reluctantly, which he would gratefully give him. He was addicted to it, Romano was, and he hated himself for it- hated having to rely on such a drug to make the pain go away by taking so much it put him in a dreamless coma. But Antonio didn't mind in the least. In fact, it was one of the things he consistently remembered, just how much to give his little _Tomate, _to make him fall sound asleep. It wasn't like he enjoyed drugging him- he just enjoyed seeing him finally peaceful after so much pain.

That was when he could slip down to be with his friends, once Romano was fast asleep and no longer shrieking in pain. Gilbert, of course, the suave-speaking man that he was, immediately retorted "what the Hell is wrong with him, anyway?" as soon as Antonio finally slumped down into the love seat, stretching out all the way across it.

At the German's words, Antonio's eyes snapped open, sending him a hard glare. "He has nerve damage, mi amigo," he told him, tongue sharp, "he cannot help it."

"But mein Gott! We can hear him from all the way down here!" He complained, taking a gulp of his beer, "how can you live with _that_? It's not like he's nice to you, either."

Francis just rolled his eyes, "mon ami- Romano is not nice to anyone." He cut in, flicking back a few locks of blonde hair.

The German just scoffed at what the Frenchman said. "I couldn't give a damn if he was nice to me or not- he fucking lives with Antonio. You'd think he'd be at least a little nicer, especially since he has to take care of him. I mean, just a little too much morphine and-" he stopped, making a choking sound and pretending to be dead.

That was when Antonio flew off the handle.

He immediately jumped up and practically flew to Gilbert, who was across from him, flipping over the coffee table in his rage. Before the albino could get away, the tanned man had grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him into the air so that they were nose to nose, eyes aflame with emerald fire. "You would not dare speak such things," he growled, voice practically dripping with malice, "do not ever even think that I might kill _mi Tomate._ I will snap your neck in two…"

Gilbert blinked, shocked at his sudden actions, and though he wouldn't admit it, quite scared. He had known Antonio for years and knew good and well that the man kept his word true- especially when it came to threats. "Chill, bruder, I was only kidding and you know it." He murmured, trying to force a smug smile that never came.

When the Spaniard still wouldn't put him down, Francis sighed, standing up from the chair he had been relaxing in, just as a few others began to peek and see what the ruckus was all about. One of those people being Matthew and another Ludwig, both of whom had quite the same reaction, as if such things occurred on a normal basis for the two of them. "Mes amis, just sit down, s'il vous plait- you're making a scene." He mumbled, only halfheartedly worried about the outcome.

Reluctantly, Antonio gave a low grunt of anger and dropped Gilbert, the man stumbling back some before he was able to right himself. Giving a long look to everyone, the Spaniard turned sharply and made his way back to the stairs, the sound of a door slamming following his disappearance to the second floor within seconds.

"_They said they could only take two of us," Roderich announced as he re-approached the group, hands clamped into fists, "until they can confirm that we're The Nations they say that they cannot spare any more doctors and nurses- refugees are still coming in from Hungary and a lot of them are on their death beds. They won't give us any morphine, either, not even for the ones they're taking."_

_The makeshift hospital was bustling with people, the wounded and dying moaning and sobbing where ever one turned, begging for help from the overworked and exhausted nurses and doctors who could give them little but more morphine to make their passings easier. It was horrifying, being in the old school building, seeing all the desks where children once sat and learned now being used as seats and beds for those who could no longer stand on their own. _

_Veniciano hid behind Ludwig, burring his face into the larger man's coat as he held onto the Italian with his one good arm, trying to comfort him and keep him from breaking down completely. Gilbert had Elizaveta in his arms, holding her while Roderich had gone off to negotiate with those that were running the place, trying to get at least those that really needed it in. Unfortunately it did not work as well as they had planned. "Did you tell them that we do have a Hungarian woman with us?" Arthur asked, leaning Alfred against a desk since he was unable to stand, "and that she and one or two other of us are going to die if we don't get help right now?"_

"_How could they not believe us?" Alfred nearly yelled, banging his fist on the desk, "I mean, seriously! Why else would so many different people be here, of all places, during a war?"_

_Antonio replied, "they may think we're just ordinary soldiers…"_

_But Vash agreed with Alfred, folding his arms over his chest and saying "we're too young and even if we were just average soldiers, we all wouldn't be together."_

"_They probably think we gathered together after we got left behind by our parties," Heracles said coolly from where he was perched against a desk, unable to stand on his horribly marred leg, rubbing Kiku's back as he coughed, bits of blood expelling from his mouth "or that we're deserters…"_

_At his words, Feliks let out a scoff, wincing as it pulled at his wounded lips. He went to argue but Ludwig calmly cut him off, starting._

"_Arguing won't help us now," he told them. Though his voice was soft and controlled for Veniciano's, it took power over the rest of them, forcing them to fall silent, "they won't take all of us so we need to give them whoever is in the worst condition."_

_Gilbert's head snapped up, "Elizaveta needs to go," he said suddenly, surprising them all, "seriously, she's only getting worse and now she won't even wake up."_

_With a solid, obviously fearful nod Roderich agreed, "give her here, I'll take her in." He told the white haired man, reaching out. Gilbert stepped forward and transferred the unconscious girl into the other man's arms, giving him a worried look- something Roderich very, very rarely saw on the cocky, self-centered man's face. _This is no good,_ the man with glasses thought to himself as he took the much too light young woman, _oh, Gott, this is not good…_ "Who else?" He asked, looking around at the group. So many were hurt and needed treatment, he sure as hell couldn't chose between them-_

"_Kiku needs help," Francis said, almost inaudibly, from where he sat on the floor. "Listen to him- he can barely breathe."_

_No one had expected Francis to say anything, after how he had been for the past few days of travelling and searching for a hospital (or any sign of life, at all). The man had been lost in his own mind, following them blindly, "Kiku needs to go." He repeated, not even looking up at them._

"_Alright. Vash, can you- "before he could finish Vash was up, picking up Kiku and taking him from Heracles._

_To the Greek he said, "don't let Lilli out of your sight." _

"_I'll take care of her." The man responded, giving a small smile.

* * *

  
_Lame ending is lame. Sorry- most of this is written in government and AP Psych, now, because I'm having some issues at home.

Luckily, my Chibitalia costume came in so I'm happy for the first time in about a month~

Also, I'd really like to thank my very, very loyal reviewers. You are lovely people and I very much thank you!

~Sami


	15. Chapter 15

Sorry, no flashback, but it's decently long... I guess. This gets done primarily in Drama Practice and Government, now :P

Enjoy~

* * *

"Antonio said they aren't coming back down," Veniciano told Gilbert, Francis, and everyone else that had gathered from midway down the stairs. "Fratello is asleep but Antonio seemed super angry, though he couldn't say why."

Ludwig shook his head, putting his hand on his hip. "See what you have done, Bruder?" He asked, looking at his older brother sternly (not that he ever looked at anyone except for Veniciano differently), "severely angered one of the few people who never gets angry."

However, Arthur stopped him, shaking his head. "Just let him go, they'll be fine- Gilbert needs to blow off some bloody steam and Matthew will make sure he gets home later." He explained to his fiancé, pushing him back a little before letting him go. Needless to say, the other blonde still was not content.

"Don't worry, Alfred," Ludwig told him, assuringly, "if I know my brother he will just go drink until he passes out, only leaving Matthew to drag him home. Now a days, I am very grateful that your brother his around to help him, since I cannot."

A sudden pained yell from upstairs made them all jump, though they very quickly realized it was just Romano waking once more. Veniciano's perpetually cheerful face fell at hearing his brother's scream, "I will go make sure Antonio does not need any help with Fratello." He sighed, turning to head back up.

"I will accompany you," Ludwig responded, heading after the copper-haired young man.

The rest of the group stood there rather awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do. Luckily, Francis finally spoke up, stating "If no one else has anything to say, I suppose I shall begin dinner- perhaps that shall lure our dear Antonio down…"

* * *

Sure enough, the prospect of a good dinner did bring the Spaniard down- though he had not forgotten that he was still angry. Gilbert and Matthew still had yet to return, though, so he didn't act up when he came down to fetch plates for himself and Romano. "Gracias, mi amigo," he thanked as Roderich handed him two plates, filmed to the brim with the most delicious looking foods, "sorry we won't be joining you. Romano's still-"

"It is fine, Antonio," Roderich told him, giving the man an understanding nod, "go take care of Romano. You know he needs you, no matter how he treats you- just don't listen to Gilbert. He doesn't understand…"

Meeting his eyes for the first time, the dark eyed man smiled gratefully. "Sí, I know. I- don't really remember what he said exactly but I understand, but Gilbert is Gilbert. He never had to go through the pain of seeing the one he loves in agony."

Roderich couldn't help but smile back, "no- it's different for him. He just can't sympathize and he will never be able to." He explained, then looked over his shoulder, "go take care of Romano; Veniciano said he would bring you desert later."

With another thankful smile Antonio nodded and headed out of the Dining Room, returning to Romano once more. "Roderich, come eat!" Elizaveta called from the table, "your food is going to get cold if you don't hurry!" The sound of his wife's voice made him look back at the table, smiling at the people who were gathered there before heading to his seat.

He had expected to just start eating but suddenly Veniciano nearly jumped out of his seat, slamming his hands on the table. "You can't eat yet!" He said firmly, his sudden motion stopping everyone, "we haven't said grace, yet!" Veniciano wasn't the perfect Catholic but he was strict in what he believed to be right, and that included praying before each meal.

Alfred whined, his head pounding against the table. "Oh come onnnn!" The blonde complained, "I just want to eat, damnit!" He grumbled against the white table cloth, a bit of his drool dribbling onto it.

"Oh, hush up, Alfred," Arthur told him, rolling his eyes, "I think Veniciano has a good idea- saying Grace for once won't hurt you or make you starve in the least." The older blonde patted him on the head a little harshly, making him sit up correctly.

Vash frowned from the other side of the table, "and what if not all of us are Catholic, Arthur? Or even Christian?"

Francis gave a little sigh, slumping back elegantly in his chair, "mon cher, s'il vous plait," he said, giving a little wave of his hand, "our dear Kiku is not Christian and you do not see him complaining." He then looked over at the Japanese man, giving a slight smile, "_do_ you have a problem with it, my friend?" He asked, giving light to his curiosity.

Of course, the polite dark haired man gave a shake of his head "no, I will respect Veniciano's wishes and pray if he would like us to- I find no wrong in something like this." He told them, "I do not have to pray to the Christian god, after all."

The lithe Italian gave a quiet squeal of delight, barely resisting the urge to clap his hands as he saw Vash give up (He already knew Alfred would do it, if Arthur was making him). Instead, he held his hands to each side of himself, touching Ludwig's shoulder and taking Elizaveta's dainty hand, then proceeded to bow his head and close his eyes. The rest of the group watched and followed, mimicking what Veniciano did exactly. And the man began his prayer in crisp, flowing Italian and though no one else completely understood the words, they listened intently, without a word said about it.

* * *

A large yawn escaping his lips, Arthur looked through the threshold of the living room door "Alfred, come to bed, already. Matthew will be back soon enough, dragging a bleeding unconscious Gilbert behind him." He said, walking over to his boyfriend, "let's go, Alfred."

The wheelchair bound blonde gave a little grunt, frowning as he continued to stare out the window, "not until Mattie comes back," he said gruffly, "I mean look, Artie! It's starting to snow harder! Matt doesn't live here, he might get lost when this turns into a blizzard! Then he'll die out there with freaking Gilbert and it'll be all that stupid-"

"Calm down, Alfred!" The other nearly yelled, grabbing him by the head, "Matthew lives in the middle of nowhere in the middle of, mmm, that country to the north of us- he will not die in a blizzard on the outskirts of New York City!" Arthur told him, walking to stand in front of him, "please, Alfred- just come to bed, already. It's late and your brother will be absolutely fine- I'm more worried about Gilbert than Matt, you know how he gets after he drinks too much."

With a sigh, Alfred gave a pout, sitting back in his chair in acceptance, making Arthur smile. "That's a good lad, let's get on, now." He told him, pressing a chaste little kiss to his lips. Just as he was pulling away, though, Alfred grabbed him and pressed their lips together passionately, if only for a second.

After Alfred pulled away and grinned, saying "I'll see you in the room," quietly before wheeling himself toward their room.

The whole ordeal left Arthur stunned for a moment (though, later he would admit he shouldn't have been surprised by Alfred's actions) before blushing hard and following the other man to the room.

* * *

Romano gave a tiny whimper, twisting in the bed to face Antonio, who was still awake, despite the hour. The Spaniard looked down at the Italian, smiling tiredly, "feeling better, Mi Tomate?" he asked quietly, reaching down to brush his sweat drenched hair back off his forehead.

The younger nodded, not bothering to open his eyes, but said "I- thought I told you to get out, b-bastard." He croaked almost inaudibly, "why are you here?"

Laughing, Antonio sat back, twirling his finger in Romano's hair, "I couldn't just leave you here," he murmured gently, "not when you are feeling so terrible. What kind of boyfriend would I be?"

The words made him blush, trying to frown through the still lingering pain. At first he went to argue with Antonio but stopped himself, deciding it wasn't worth it. No, instead he moved a little closer to the tanned skin man, curling ever so slightly into his leg, which made the Spaniard grin ear to ear. "You want me to play you a song, mi Tomate?" He asked quietly, reaching for his guitar he kept on his side of the bed. When Romano nodded, Antonio pulled it onto his lap, making sure to keep it from hitting the other in the head. He strummed a few quiet notes before starting the song, singing sweetly and softly to his lover, who visibly relaxed into the elder, the pain beginning to finally recede from his body.

* * *

And done. Hope you enjoyed it- there will be more issues soon and I garuntee they will get bad. Very, very bad.

So, enjoy the minor fluff that you get now- it won't last. Sorreh!

~Sami

As always, thank you dearly for the reviews, my loves~!

AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PRUSSIA!


	16. Chapter 16

Sorry this took so long, guys. Luckily, this one is pretty long with an extra long flashback

Enjpy~

* * *

_"Yes sir, she's been awaiting you. Please come in." The young butler said with a smile as he pulled the door open all the way, allowing Roderich to walk into the beautiful mansion before him. It was decorated in the proud colours of the Hungarian flag, one of which hung between the two curving staircases, appearing to be at least ten feet long as it stretched nearly to the floor. _

_The young man had called a plump, older woman whilst Roderich had been awing at the beauty of the home. "Sir Edelstein?" She called, tearing the Austrian from his trance. When he turned to face her she smiled, making Roderich think of a kind grandmother looking at her grandchildren, "Miss Hedervary has been waiting quite some time and has retired to her study- if you would please follow me?" She asked once more._

_Nodding, Roderich responded, "of course, please-" he told her, gesturing for her to continue, he following after. The woman lead him up one side of the gilded staircase, the quiet, beautiful sound of a harp meeting his ears, getting ever-so louder as they walked on._

_Finally, the maid stopped in front of a small, ornately decorated wooden door, behind which the harp was much louder. Without knocking, the woman pushed the door open for him and pressed him inside, shutting the door once he was. _

_Needless to say, Roderich was surprised to see it was Elizaveta gently strumming the strings of the harp. Hearing the door shut, she paused, the music stopping suddenly and leaving the two in silence. A smile spread across the Hungarian woman's lips as she stood up, facing- but not looking at- the door. "So you finally made it?" She asked, voice full of joy, "thank you for visiting, Roderich."_

_Quickly, the man with glasses strode over the woman, dropping the flowers and box of chocolates he had brought her on a coffee table. "I am sorry," he told her honestly, lightly gripping her hand in his own, "there was a terrible delay and-"_

_She gave a tiny laugh, pressing a hand over his mouth. "Sh, I understand," she told him, removing her hand when she felt his mouth stop, "I'm just glad you came. Please, have a seat." Elizaveta moved her hand in the general direction of where a gold-coloured couch sat, allowing the man to lead her to it. "So, how have you been?" She asked, cocking her head to the side as they sat down, "it's been a while since we last saw each other."_

_"Nearly nine months," he said exactly, "the last time we saw each other was at Feliks and Toris' Christmas party last year." Roderich told her, remembering the last time he had seen her to the Tee. "But I've been quite fine. How has your therapy going?"_

_At that, he felt her tense up, "o-oh," she stuttered, turning her head slightly away from him, "I figured Feliks would have told everyone by now…" She muttered, trying to hide the sadness in her voice from Roderich, but doing it unsuccessfully._

_Reaching out tentatively, Roderich very lightly took her hand and squeezed it gently, "Elizaveta- what happened?"_

_She gave the smallest of smiles, turning her head back to him, "they told me they couldn't do anything else," she said softly, "no surgery or transplant will bring my sight back. I'm not going to see ever again."  
His mouth went dry as he whispered "oh" quietly, not knowing what else to say.  
"Don't be like that," Elizaveta told the man, reaching for his face and taping his forehead, "I'm getting used to it- see? I can find your face almost instantly, now." She told him, a false cheer in her voice.  
Reaching up Roderich took her free hand in his, holding them both, now. "Elizaveta-"  
"How about you?" She asked, cutting him off, "how are your hands doing?" She twisted her own in his, moving to hold them back.  
If it was even possible, his face fell even more. "I still can't play, of that's what you mean." Roderich responded, glancing at the harp positioned in front of a small, plush chair she was sitting in earlier, "but I see you do."_

_Immediately, Elizaveta blushed. "I- needed something to distract myself," she said quietly, "and I remembered- I remembered that your music always calmed me down…" she trailed off, chewing on her lip, "I'm not very good, though."_

_"You're beautiful," he told her, then blanched, "you- you're music, I mean." Roderich managed to catch himself from being completely embarrassed. _

_At his catch, she gave him a smirk. "Well, thank you very much," she said, letting go of his hands and putting her own back in her lap. "Did you- bring something?" Elizaveta questioned, changing the subject completely, "I thought I heard you put something down…"_

_Roderich as well snapped from the depressing subject, his attention going to her question. "Yes, of course." He stood up, crossing to the table he had set the box of chocolates and flowers and picking them up, "Austrian chocolates and flowers. I- wasn't sure what kind you liked, though…" He told her as he sat back down, pressing the bouquet into her hands gently._

_Wrapping her fingers around the plastic, Elizaveta brought the flowers to her face, sniffing them greedily. With a grin, she told him "they smell like you."_

* * *

"It's almost Christmas!" Veniciano called as he bounced down the stairs, tugging Ludwig behind him. It was only nine in the morning, which surprised those who were awake and those who were awoken by the excited yell. The younger Italian rarely woke up before noon when he was permitted to continue sleeping but this morning he had actually arisen before his German partner, shaking the other man into consciousness at seven thirty in the morning.

Despite the fact that he had told Alfred not to be worried, Ludwig had stayed up reading until he heard the door to the next room slam shut, meaning his brother had returned home safely. It wasn't that he didn't trust that Matthew would bring him back but everyone knew the Canadian could go on a drinking streak as well, especially when he was with his older brother- God only knew what the two of them did when they were alone.

Needless to say, the blonde haired, blue-eyed German had been looking forward to sleeping peacefully with Veniciano until noon. Sadly, the one time he wanted it, he was not granted such a luxury.

Kiku looked up from where he had been sitting with Heracles on the couch, "do we not still have Christmas Eve tomorrow, Veniciano-san?" He asked, knowing he wasn't counting wrong on his days.

"We do," Heracles agreed, nodding, "Veniciano is just excited… as always…"

An angry scoff came from upstairs as a door flew open, slamming into the wall, "do you, like, absolutely have to scream?" Feliks yelled from up the stairs and down the hall, where he couldn't be seen but could very well be heard, "some of us are still trying to get our beauty sleep up here, thank you!" And with that the door slammed shut.

"What the _fuck_ is going on?" Another voice exploded from yet another room.

From the couch, Heracles gave a quiet sigh, "now everyone is going to get up…"

* * *

Dinner was served in a flourish by Francis once more, the aroma of the steaming plates wafting through the house. "Guys, dinner's ready!" Alfred yelled up the stairs, as direct to by Arthur, "get your lazy butts down here!"

"Danke Gott, I was starving!" Gilbert yelled back, nearly sprinting down the stairs, clutching the sleeve of Matthew's sweatshirt to make sure he stayed in tow. "Oi, Francis, 'bout time you got our fucking dinner done!" The albino called as he passed Alfred, who watched to make sure everyone else made it downstairs. Lilli and Vash were the last ones down, the Swiss blushing slightly as the girl giggled, signing in a rush to him. Vaguely, the young American watching them wondered what had Vash in such a tizzy.

"Smells wonderful, Francis," Roderich said as he lead Elizaveta into the room, giving the Frenchman a thankful smile. "Thank you for making dinner."

At his words the blonde man let out a hardy laugh "non, non, mon chere- do not thank me for fixing one of my passions!" He told him, crossing his arms over his chest with a cocky grin, "though, you could thank me for-"

"Watch what you say, Francis" Elizaveta warned, face falling into a glare, "you wouldn't want the frying pan in your hand to meet your face, would you?" She asked darkly.

The man clicked his tongue, "ma amore, this pan is still hot! You would not truly burn my face with it?"

Gilbert gave a chortle from where he sat, tipping his chair back, "you bet your ass she would." He commented, clicking his tongue.

Roderich gave a silent roll of his eyes as he tugged his wife away from Francis, she allowing him to do so. As Alfred rolled back in and went to his part of the table next to Arthur, Francis began to serve up the food.

It was only a few minutes into the meal when Elizaveta paused suddenly, attracting Roderich's attention. "Are you alright, liebe?" He inquired softly, touching her leg gently. She gave a little shake of her head, pressing her hand to her mouth. At that time, Feliks looked up, seeing this.

"Oh no," he said, standing up, "c'mon, Lizzy, let's get you to the bathroom," he said, reaching for her.

She nodded and began to stand up, but Roderich stopped her. "I'll take her, I'm her husband." He said, also rising.

"No, no Roderich," she murmured, "I'll go with Feliks. Please don't argue- I'll go with Feliks." Elizaveta told her husband, touching his shoulder.

With a sigh, Roderich had no other choice but to agree with her. With a glance back, Feliks said, "Lilli, do you want to come?" He asked, slowly enough so that she could read his lips.

The youngest of the group nodded and got up quickly, rushing over just as Elizaveta began running for the bathroom.

For a moment after they left, the men sat in total silence, staring awkwardly. "Well," Arthur spoke up, "let's- let's get back to dinner, shall we?" He muttered, picking his silver wear back up. Everyone else gave quiet murmurs of agreement and continued on, the rest of their dinner continuing in total silence.

* * *

"Are you okay now, hon?" Feliks asked, rubbing little circles on Elizaveta's back as she sat down on the ground, pushing away from the toilet. The young woman gave a shuttering nod, pulling her legs to her chest. "Lilli can you, like, get Lizzy water?" He asked the blonde, who nodded and moved to the sink.

Elizaveta sighed and put her head in her hands, whimper quietly, "I haven't done that since I got out of the hospital," she muttered, trying her hardest to repress the memories of the many times she had before they got to the hospital. Even at the slightest feeling of nausea, her mind always wandered back to those two years…

Sitting down in front of her, Lilli handed the glass to the other woman, who drank it greedily, trying to get the vile taste out of her mouth. "Feel better?" The blonde woman asked in her light voice, cocking her head to the side.

With a small smile Elizaveta nodded, reaching out and rubbing Lilli's arm in assurance. "I'm fine, now. Thank you- both of you."

"It's, like, totally no problem girl." Feliks told her, flipping his hair back, "us girls have to stick together, right?" He said, making the Hungarian woman laugh.

But her laughter died down quickly, replaced by an overwhelming sense of realization. Her blind eyes went suddenly wide, "hey, Feliks- Arthur wouldn't have _pregnancy tests_, would he?" She asked quietly, chewing on her lip a little.

It took a minute for it to settle in to the others minds but once it did, Feliks let out an overly excited squeal of delight. "You don't really think-" he stopped himself, too excited to continue.

With a small smile, Elizaveta gave a nod. Lilli gasped in excitement and nearly jumped the other woman, followed immediately by Feliks.

* * *

And chapter~  
Is Elizaveta pregnant? Only time will tell... and by time, I mean the next chapter (probably) ^3^

Much love to all my reviewers! I'll try to respond to you this time, I've just been buisy. Last weekend was an anime convention and my Holy Rome gave me (as Chibitalia) flowers~ It was so cute. but I now officially know what it is like to be paparzzied- oh, god, so many cameras all at once O_e

Can anyone guess what kind of flowers Austria gave Hungary? ;D

Much love,

~Sami


	17. Chapter 17

Sorry it's been a while. Senior Projects and PreCalculus are killing me ;A;

Enjoy~

_

* * *

_

"Lilli can't hear, anymore," Vash told Arthur, not able to look in his eyes, "they hope it will be temporary, but she was still able to tell the doctors what happened to Jeanne. She said she died because of you…"

_The Brit's eyes went wide, a jolt going through his body. "What?" He whispered in shock. And then the door slammed open, hitting the wall with a loud bang to reveal a horrifyingly furious Francis._

_He launched himself at Arthur, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him into a nearby wall. "You!" He roared, shaking the slightly smaller man, "you killed her! Ma Jeanne! It is your fault she is dead!" The Frenchman yelled, slamming his head into the wall._

_"Francis, let go of him!" Vash snapped, trying to push his way between them. But Francis removed one hand from Arthur and threw the Swiss man back with a surprising amount of strength. As fast as he could, Vash jumped up and ran out of the room, yelling for help._

_Arthur flailed as Francis continued to slam him into the concrete wall, desperately trying to push the other away. "I don't know what the bloody hell they are talking about!" He yelled, hitting him with bandaged hands, "I don't remember anything! I don't even recall seeing Jeanne after the girls were taken away!"_

_Pulling him from the wall, Francis threw Arthur to the ground, jumping on top of him and beginning to punch and fight him. "Liar! Liar! Lilli said she saw it with her own eyes! She said she saw her burn to death because of you! How could you not remember her burning to death?"

* * *

_

_Arthur looked up at her, tears in his eyes, as he dropped the fire place match on the pyre. "I'm sorry…" he whispered thickly, watching as the dry wood sizzled and cracked before catching, pulling the flame toward the blonde girl in the center._

_He could remember- he remembered the smell of burning flesh and hair engulfing him, making his stomach lurch. He remembered the taste of the air mixed with the burning taste of the stomach acid he had thrown up but tried to stop, only covering his hands in the filth._

_But most of all, Arthur recalled the sounds of her screaming, crying, and begging as the fire licked at Jeanne, killing her slowly. The sounds of Lilli sobbing as Ivan dragged her away, taking her back to where he assumed Elizaveta was. And the sounds of his own lurching and choking on the too thick, inky smoke that was slowly filling the room that he was now locked in._

_Ivan left while Jeanne was still alive, leaving Arthur to listen to her die. He tried to pull her out, reaching his hands in to the flames, feeling her just out of his reach as the fire turned his skin to a crisp. After only a few seconds he had to pull his hands out, unable to bare the pain any longer._

_So the Englishman turned away from the dying girl, pulling his legs up to his chest and burying his head in them, his horrifically burned arms stretched in front of him. Rocking back, Arthur tried with all his will power to block the sounds and smells that filled the room out…_

* * *

He woke with a jolt, eyes wide and breathing hard. Too hard- his whole body shook with fear as he desperately looked around the room. It was just his living room… and he was on the couch, Alfred sprawled across it, his head in Arthur's lap.

Arthur gave a sigh of relief, thanking God and the King he was not back in that horrific place.

But the sudden movements shook the American awake, yawning and rubbing his eye. "What's wrong, babe?" He asked, his voice barely above a mumble as he sleepily gazed up at his fiancé, sky blue eyes cloudy.

Of course, Arthur had never told Alfred of these memories- he had never told anyone of them, not even after all the years that had passed. How could he have? How could he have told them that he did kill Jeanne? That it was all his fault she was dead and that he himself had inflicted the burns on his arms trying to save her? They'd never see him the same way, never think of him the same because the rest of them were more than willing to sacrifice themselves to save each other.

So, no, he wouldn't tell. Not ever. "Nothing, love," he whispered to the blue eyed man, running his gloved fingers through his hair, "just a night terror. Why don't we go climb into bed, hm?" He asked, properly distracting Alfred, who just nodded incoherently and sat up. Arthur got up and helped him into his wheelchair, then pushed it off to their shared room.

* * *

Elizaveta curled into Roderich, wiggling herself into his arms. Ever so lightly she reached up, trailing her fingers across his face, feeling how relaxed it was, not set into the perpetual frown he typically wore. With a sweet smile to herself, imagining the one time she had seen his face so peaceful- the night they were captured- she let her eyes fall shut. Though, the young woman did not sleep, for her mind was much too abuzz with the thoughts of what was happening.

Could she really be pregnant? The doctors had told her she would probably never be able to get pregnant after what Ivan did to her during their time as his prisoners, the lengths he went to make sure she didn't end up baring his child (for if she had it would have disrupted his play). The poisons, the shots, the beatings to make sure if she ever ended up with child it wouldn't last long. They tore up her insides, making her violently ill and some bringing her close to death- one in particular (or, perhaps it was a mix of them) causing her to lose her sight.

But they had said probably- probably. She probably wouldn't be able to have a baby, not she definitely wouldn't be able to have one. And, oh, how she wanted nothing more than to be able to give Roderich a child, their own little child. Despite all he said against them, that he didn't want or need one, Elizaveta knew deep down how terribly he wished for a son or daughter, judging by the way he acted around children.

They would try and try for one and every time the results came back negative, Roderich would hold her in his arms as she cried. And she knew that he cried, too, even if he kept it silent.

Elizaveta could only hope and pray, though, that this time would be different. This time she actually had their baby growing inside of her.

* * *

_"What's your full name?"_

_"Alfred F. Jones."_

_"And how old are you?"_

_"…what year is it, again?"_

_"2030"_

_"Um, then I'm probably nineteen- depending on the month."_

_"What's your birthday?"_

_"July 4__th__, 2011. Born on Independence Day, which makes me super American!"_

_"Can you feel your legs?"_

_"I already told you no. Can I go see Arthur, now?" _

_"A few more questions, Alfred, and then you can go see Mr. Kirkland."_

_Alfred let out a frustrated sigh and slumped back into his wheelchair. "More questions? Why? What else could I possibly have to tell you?" He asked, tugging his fingers through his hair._

_The doctor shook his head. "We know there are some things that your group isn't telling us. You talk about Mr. Kirkland a lot- did you have some sort of close relationship with him?"_

_Narrowing his eyes at the doctor, Alfred glared harshly at him. "Why the fuck would you need to know that? What does that have to do with what Ivan did to us?" He questioned, venom in his voice._

_There was a sudden crash from a few rooms over, followed by panicked shouting for help. Needless to say, that was where their session ended…_

Well duh it was England's fault Jeanne died. Hu duhhh XD  
It's not really his fault, of course, but I still had to have him "killing" her somehow.

Anyway, this will probably be ending sooner than later. And hopefully I'll get to update more...

-Sami  
(reviews- they are love)


	18. Chapter 18

Next chapter.  
Enjoy~

* * *

Before Roderich could even think about waking up the next morning, Elizaveta was up and stumbling to the bathroom faster than her husband could comprehend what was going on. When he finally got to the bathroom door he could hear her heaving from the other side and going in he saw her leaning over the toilet, trying to hold her hair back. As fast as he could Roderich rushed over to her, taking her long hair from her hands with one hand and rubbing her back with the other soothingly. "It's alright, liebe, you're okay." He murmured.

After a few moments of Elizaveta vomiting she gave a shudder and sat back, entire body shaking. As she calmed her husband was able to rise and fetch a glass of water from the sink, pressing it to her lips and allowing her to drink from it, clearing the taste out of her mouth. At the same time, Roderich felt at her forehead, checking for a fever. "You must be coming down with something. Come on, let's get you back to bed, dear…"

And Elizaveta just nodded her head in agreement, not yet wanting to get his hopes up.

* * *

_Ivan was dead. That was all that mattered. _

_His sisters were disarmed and disabled and now Vash, Ludwig, Roderich, Toris, Gilbert, and Berwald were rushing down the hallways, desperately searching for the girls and Peter, the Swede's son. After all, it was thanks to he and Tino that they were able to free themselves, so it wasn't as if they could just not help find their child. _

_They had to go door-by-door, opening each one they could and kicking down those they couldn't to try and find them. The group managed to acquire guns of all sorts and sizes from the rooms that held ammunition, using them to beat down and kill the Russian soldiers that attempted to stop them._

_It took them over an hour to find Peter, who was locked in a small hall closet with barely any food and hardly conscious- but still alive. Berwald pushed through them and scooped his little son into his arms, gave the others a nod of gratitude, and disappeared down another hall to find Tino. _

_Soon after that, though, they were able to come across Lilli. The slight blonde had been locked in a separate cell block than the men had been in and she was sprawled out on the ground on her back, facing the ceiling. But- she wasn't moving… "Lilli!" Vash yelled, seeing her from down the hall, "Lilli, get up!" He snapped as he reached the bars. She still didn't respond, though. He reached for the lock only to find it melted to the bars, making it impossible for them to unlock it. Gazing in and shaking at the bars, Lilli wouldn't open her eyes, despite all the yelling from Vash. _

_"Look out," Gilbert told him, pushing him out of the way. In his hands was a bar cutter, which he had found swinging on a rack of other terrifying-looking tools (some of which he recognized vaguely, since Ivan had used some on them). They were huge and looked more like the Jaws of Life than something to snap skinny little bars away; then again, these were by no means thin bars. He positioned the rusted blades over the lock, squeezing them as hard as he could to break off the top- Gilbert was a strong man and could have easily done something such as this in any normal situation._

_But in the state of near starvation he was in it took both himself and Vash to slice through the top, and Toris had to join them to get through the bottom of it. The piece of bar around the lock slammed against the floor with a bone chilling, metallic ring; still, it did not rouse Lilli._

_Immediately Vash threw the iron door open, rushing over to the seemingly-lifeless girl. He grabbed her by her shoulders and shook her hard, trying to get her up, yelling at her to awaken- which she did, her eyes flying open in a shock at his shaking, panic beginning to overtake her._

_But as soon as she saw the Swiss leaning over her Lilli's eyes changed from panic to overwhelming joy, tears welling up in them. "Basche!" She exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and making him stop shaking her, feeling her starting to sob against him, his eyes going wide and a dark blush covering his cheeks._

_All he could do at that point was hold her tightly, trying to stop her from crying. "It- it's okay, Lilli. You're alright but we need to find Elizaveta, now." He told her softly, trying to be gentle, "and we need to get out of here soon. Do you know where she might be?" He asked, but she didn't respond. After a time, he pulled her away, looking at her in the eyes through her tears. "Lilli?"_

_New ones gathered in her eyes as she stared at him, shaking her head. "I- I can't hear you, Basche," she whispered, "I can't hear anything…"_"Alright! Finally Christmas Eve!" Gilbert yelled as he kicked open the front door of Alfred's house, hands full with all kinds of bags, "time to hang stockings over the fireplace!" He exclaimed, dropping his bags in the middle of the living room. The German then turned to Matthew, grinning as he pressed the door shut behind him, "hey, I got that, babe. I'll meet you upstairs in a little," he told the Canadian, taking the few bags he carried. As the blonde nodded and started to walk away, Gilbert couldn't help but slap him on the ass, chuckling as the man gave the smallest yelp of surprise.

* * *

From where he sat on the couch, watching football, Alfred gave the albino a harsh glare.

Dashing over to the stairs, Gilbert called up, "Oi, bruder! Get down here and help me with this beer!" When there was no response he turned to the American on the couch, asking "where's bruder? The awesome-me needs some assistance with a delicate thing, here."

"He and Veniciano left earlier to go get food for tonight," Alfred grumbled, getting pissed off that the man was ruining his football game. "Goddamnit!" He yelled at the television screen, throwing up his arms in anger, "are you kidding me? There's no way that was a foul!"

"Must you yell?" Roderich asked, voice teeming with annoyance as he descended the stairs, "my wife is trying to sleep but with you two down here she'll never be able to."

Gilbert looked up at him for where he had bent over the bags, red eye questioning the Austrian. "Elizaveta's not up yet? What's wrong with her?" He questioned, knowing it was weird for her to be sleeping so late, since she was usually a morning person.

The other gave a small shrug, stating "she got sick again this morning. I think she may be coming down with the flu…"

A groan came from the couch when Alfred heard this "nnnnn- that means we're all going to get sick!"

* * *

"Lizzy, what's it sayyyy?" Feliks whined, pounding his head on the door of the bathroom from the side that connected to Lilli and Vash's room. From beside him Lilli frowned, tugging on his hair to make him stop. "C'mon, Lizzy! We have to know, like, now!"

Suddenly, the doorknob began twisting, making Feliks jump back, practically dancing in excitement. Elizaveta stepped out of the bathroom and shut the door behind her, keeping her eyes glued to the floor, making both Lilli and Feliks go white in fear. "Oh no, Lizzy, I'm, like, so—"

But then she looked up and grinned, shaking her head at his words, tears of happiness in her eyes.

_

* * *

_

It took hours for them to finally find Elizaveta.

_And where they finally found her was locked in Ivan's room, on his bed, one wrist chained to the wall so she couldn't move. She was barely clothed and covered in dried blood, her long hair matted and several shades darker from not seeing the sun- or even being out of the room- for nearly the entire time they had been captured. _

_The door had been locked so they were forced to kick it in, slamming it against the wall. They hadn't even known anyone was in the room until the screaming started, triggered by the sudden noise, terrifying the woman inside. She was pleading for something in broken Russian, barely audible over her sobs as she buried her face in her arms and pushed as close to the wall as she could, trying to get away._

_Who wouldn't have been scared? After men came bursting into a room you were locked in, guns blazing as they shouted for whoever was inside to surrender or die. It was her instinct, after all that time, to cower and beg for mercy from whoever was entering. _

_And it had been years since she had heard their voices, not that she was paying any particular attention to what they actually sounded like._

_"Elizaveta?" Gilbert called, voice barely over a whisper, the first one to realize the woman on the bed was none other than the young Hungarian soldier, "stop, don't shoot!" He yelled at Vash, who had cocked his gun and was about to fire, slamming his arm hard against the gun to push it down. "It's not one of Ivan's whores! It's Elizaveta!"_

_At the sound of her name the woman froze, turning her head toward them. "G- Gilbert?" She asked through the darkness, her voice hoarse and rough._

_Seeing her in such a state, Roderich dropped his gun, letting it slam against the floor. "Mein Gott, Elizaveta…" he whispered, and she whipped her head toward the direction his voice came from.  
"Roderich…"_

Hetalia (the anime) is going on a break for an unknown period of time. From what I can tell it was announced today or yesterday and LJ's kinda freaking out at Studio DEEN. I found out from Tumblr.

There is the possibility of it being over, too. I think I'll cry if it ends...

~Sami


End file.
